JWG Crushes

I really love going to the eye doctor. It’s partly about the tests: the farmer on the tractor in the field, the puff of air, the light so bright you can’t believe it exists, the read this line, the color blindness blobs, this one:

When I was a kid, I liked mirroring my fingers, held in threes, to the chart.

When I was a kid, I liked mirroring my fingers, held in threes, to the chart.

I liked tests as a kid.  I would take them on my own.  I’d administer them to my brother when we were playing (I was a blast of a sister) “homework.”

As if all the tests weren’t enough of an inducement, I have another reason for eagerly anticipating my appointments.  I have a raging crush on my eye doctor.  He is Romanian, he has no sense of humor (at all!), and he indulges my curiosity.  Seriously.  He will answer any question I ask.

It’s a little dangerous.

At first, it started with basic questions about why I can see better through my glasses than I can with contacts.  Then it was about what lens cleaning approaches yield the best results.  Then we moved onto sundry ocular procedures my family members have undergone (mom’s pre-laser eye-straightening surgery and the little caterpillar of scar you can see from certain angles, grandpa’s replacement lenses, etc.).

Now we’re on to topics I would categorize as sci-fi.  Last time I was there, I had him talking about full ocular transplants.  “But would you need to harvest the eyes from a living donor?”  “Don’t you think that might have problematic implications in a healthcare system that arose out of capitalism?” (I only realized after that might have been a sensitive topic…)  “Have you ever read Harvest?”

He indulges me completely.  There’s a huge gap between his dry authenticity and my curious, well, unrelenting jerkiness.  How could I not totally crush on someone like that?

Oh.  And I’m taking topics of conversation now for my next visit.

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~ by likebadlovesongs on August 28, 2009.

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