Friday, January 28, 2011

A quick rant.

So this one time, I got an owie eye.

I woke up on Sunday to a red, swollen eye and the light hurt it. So I took my contacts out. Yeah, I was sleeping with them in. I always do. Don't judge. I have the kind where you can do that.

Anygrodies, I took my contacts out and I wore Addie's old eye patch for like an hour. Yes, Roo had an eye patch back when she was a pirate kindergartner, because she had to build strength in her weaker eye. So I wore my daughter's eye patch like some kind of gleeful peg-leg BA and all was well--nay, better--within about two hours. My eye was kind of wonky all day so I didn't put my contacts back in that day or the next.

But there be trouble ahead, says I.

I had a scratched eye when I was a teenager (courtesy of Thanksgiving, a tennis ball, and my dad--but that's a story for another time) so I knew that if I scratched it, it would heal pretty quickly on its own. I assumed I scratched it, and I moved on with my awesome little life.

I resumed contact lens-wearing on Tuesday. All was right with the world. I slept in my contacts like it was my job. Again. Don't judge.

Cut to me waking up at 4:00 AM today with the same "look, Ma! Pinkeye!" air about me. I took my contacts out, rinsed my eyes and set the alarm for 6:00 so I could sleep in, natch. The alarm went off and I was still Squinty McGee. So I put on my glasses, showered, (not in that order) and packed some eye makeup in my purse, hoping things would clear up and I could resume my regularly scheduled awesomeness by lunchtime.

You bet I put my eyebrows on, even though I couldn't mascara it up. A girl has to maintain some sense of mystique.

So no amount of asking my students to feel sorry for me was able to heal my eyeball. It kinda felt all day like I had accidentally sprinkled a little laundry detergent in there. Just a smidge. Ask me how I know.

It wasn't getting better, so for the enjoyment of my sixth period class (who were silently "reading"--reading being in air quotes, actually, because they were not reading at all, they were eavesdropping) I called the advice line of my doctor. By sixth period I had learned that a kid was out today FOR PINKEYE, so my hypochondria was having a happy dance in my brains.

The advice nurse suggested I have my GP doctor call me--at about 5:00--and apparently do some sort of over-the-phone-eye-exam-voodoo to see what was wrong with me. I mean--hear what was wrong with me. So I was like, okay, and when she said I should call my optometrist (not on the same insurance as the regular doc--following?) I was like yeah, probably I'll do that. Not.

But the eye didn't get better so probably turned to a dammit, now I have to. The eye doc (not part of my regular insurance) was all kind of accommodating. And by accommodating, I mean that they were like you can come sit here and we'll try to squeeze you in but I don't know how long you will have to wait and I was like I'll take it because I'm pretty sure I'm going to be blind by tomorrow. So I waited for what didn't feel like the longest hour of my life at all, and I found out that I haven't had the kind of contacts I am allowed to sleep in since 2005.


Okay. Whoopsies. That was a new bit of information. Totally owning it that someone probably told me that in 2005 but I was too great with child to remember it for more than five minutes. Or even if it was after I was great with child, I was not so great with my little bundle of Hank who didn't sleep through the night until he was THREE. Either way, I forgot about it because I was too busy growing a human.

So the eye doc gave me a prescription but since eye docs are not pharmacies I was going to have to go over to Big Doctor across the street. Big Doctor pharmacy is never fun in the afternoon when the pharmacy line is as long as the list of excuses why Lindsay Lohan couldn't make it to court last year. Whatevs. I stood in the first line to drop off my scrip (see how I'm talking like I'm an actor on ER? I miss the Clooney days...) and the girl told me it would be a half hour before my name would even be up on the board--the board that tells you to get back in line to pick up your drogas.

I was trying not to cry by this point, so I bought myself some Popchips and a decaf Americano at the little cafe. I organized my purse trash and after a half hour I saw that my name came up and I got back in line.

After a 20 minute wait, the guy at the counter was trying to force a fake look of sympathy when he said "oh. Mmmkay. We're out of this medicine here. You can go to the other Big Doc pharmacy in Sacramento and get it if you want."

I squinted back at him and in my best Angry Pirate voice I said "No. My eye hurts. I just waited in line for 20 minutes after I waited in the chair for 30. I don't want to go to Big Doc in Sac. You couldn't have told me that when I dropped it off? What else can you do?"

"Well, we can order it for you."

"Do that."

"Okay, but it will take a week to get here."


Okay, that's what I thought, but what I said was, "that isn't going to work for me."

And then in his infinite douchebaggery, he let me know, "well, that medicine isn't covered by your Big Doc insurance, anyway. You saw a non-Big Doc doctor, so it's going to cost you $136 for those eye drops."

Have you seen that scene in Kill Bill, friends? The one where torso juice is spewing all over the Yakuza because that skank's arm just dun' got sliced off? I had to leave before there was torso juice. I just took off, kind of stunned.

So I got in car and fought back tears--again--all the way home. I just wasted almost an hour and I was still Infecty McAngrysauce. My diagnosis and my prescription meant nothing because there was no way on God's Green Earth I was going to pay $136 for eye drops. I might just have had to say goodbye to ol' Righty.

There was still hope, though. My Big Doc doctor (the GP) was supposed to call between 4:50 and 5:20. I went to bed thinking that at least I could lay down, cool down, and give my right eye a little break. Fine. I made sure to be awake at 4:50. Nothing. Checked the clock again at 5:15. Nope. Aaand, I definitely fell asleep and missed the doc, who called at 5:45.


Luckily she called back about a half hour later. There was still some more drama about what was prescribed and how "out of stock" they really were. Short answer: they're not out of stock at all. Irony of all ironies. At this point, I didn't even care because all I want is me special drops. Yarrrr. I sent E out to get it for me because I was pretty sure if I drove tonight I was going to either rear-end someone out of poor vision or in some kind of Fried Green Tomatoes-style parking lot rage. I can't wait for my special steroid eye drops.

Hear that, eyeball? Time to pump.... YOU UP.


  1. Just a thought for the future.. your eye doc probably ordered a brand name and there was probably a generic or just-as-good alternative that would have been covered by your insurance.. ask your big doc next time :) Hope you feel better!

  2. I really hope your eye feels better, but this story has just made me ROFL.

  3. The Kill Bill reference is pure awesomeness. Since I frequent same Big Doc pharmacy I was able to visualize the torso juice scene perfectly! I hope your feeling infinately better today! Smooches :-)

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  5. Okay, I posted same comment twice. Yeah, DORK I know. So I deleted it and now it looks like I removed something I didn't want you to read. So not the case. FAIL!

  6. I feel for you! Over the last 18 months, I've had a really bad corneal ulcer and other random eye infections resulting in all kinds of trips to InstaCare, Optometrists, and Opthamalogists, etc... Ultimately, I can no longer wear contacts on a regular basis - only about once a week max. Super sad. It's just too dry in Utah for me to wear them like I used to. I'm hoping Lasik will be an option for me in the next year or two.