The Waiting Room
I am not sure about you, but I am constantly amazed at how quickly time goes by. It feels, literally, like a blink of an eye and suddenly it is that time again. Six weeks have gone by and it is time to go back to the Retinal Specialist for a recheck. Again.
I have faithfully done my daily rechecks. Using the Amsler Grid to carefully monitor my interpretations of those lines. Have there been any changes in the display of them? Do those lines still show the same waviness that I have come to recognize? Is there a change in what my vision is seeing? I carefully check the different lines of texts to verify that yes, I am still seeing like I was since the last specialist recheck.
With my designated driver, I head off for the anticipated visit. Even though I am somewhat confident that the results will stick to the status quo, there is always room for self-doubt. In no time at all, I am in for the exam. A simple eye chart test, pressure test, and dilation drops are administered.
The process of being dilated takes time. About twenty minutes to be exact, so I wait. In a smallish room, slowly noticing the effects of those drops. My world becomes a little difficult to see through. Everything becomes grossly out of focus as I wait patiently for the doctor to come in. Depending on the day and the line of patients before me, this passage of time can take a while. So I wait.
It was during this waiting time that I made an observation. It made me think back on other appointments at other checkups. It could be with a General Physician or a Dentist, all involving some wait time. Inevitably, those “other appointments” had something available that I have not found at the Retinal Specialist office.
Yes, magazines, old Readers Digests or People or News Week, piles of them can be found scattered throughout those other offices. But not at the Retinal Specialist office. The office I go to has a television on and old episodes of Gunsmoke or Perry Mason are often playing in the background.
But honestly, I understand it. Most of us there have been examined thoroughly with eyes totally dilated for the best exam possible. This process renders us unable to really read the written words found on magazines pages. I find myself squinting and peering at my phone as I wait. Fortunately, I am able to enlarge the font to make things readable and thus lessening the feeling of time lagging as I wait.
It's all good
So my observation of no-magazines at the Retinal Specialist is not anything groundbreaking. It is just another piece of the puzzle for the macular degeneration people to have to contend with. Life changes, sitting in a waiting room, trying to fill the time as we await yet another set of results. In the end, these results continue to lead us forward, with or without laughter, the best medicine.
Do you still drive?