Good news.

I'm not going blind.

As news goes, that's pretty sweet stuff.

Apparently this eye condition I have can flare up sometimes, causing things like spots that appear and disappear in peripheral vision, and the other stuff I've been having. Good to know. Wish he would have told me that a year ago when I saw him last. That doctor still sucks. As we were leaving, M said, "I see a lot of harried, frazzled ER doctors at work, but that guy's bedside manner sucks more than any doctor's I've ever met." Well-put.

When we arrived at dude's office, I counted eighteen people sitting in the chairs in the lobby. The door was hanging open, because apparently the air conditioner was broken. This lobby is about 11x20, so it's not real big. It was a freakin' oven in there. And it stank. In addition to the eighteen people seated at every chair along the wall, there were four more seated in an enclave where you sit while your eyes are dilating, and seven people standing in the lobby because all the chairs were taken. Amazing. I waited for two hours before they finally called me back. I listened to an old woman complain that she was going to have heatstroke. I listened to a baby crying. I listened to a man talking about oil prices in Florida. I listened to a very, very old woman talk about someone in her nursing home who took 28 pills every morning. I listened to some dude next to me complain under his breath for an hour about how terrible it was that he had to wait so long for his appointment. I wanted to read, but with dilated eyes, you just have to sit there with your eyes closed. There's not a lot you can do while you're sitting there with your eyes closed, except for listen to the other people sitting in the oven with you for hours. For most of it, I wasn't even sitting in a chair, because there weren't any; I was sitting on the floor next to the open door, wearing sunglasses and covering my eyes with my hands.

It was worth it to know that I'm not going blind though.

When I was finally called back, the eye doctor spent literally less than three minutes with me. I said that my info should have been sent over from the pulmonary guy and asked if he received it. One-word answer: "Nope." No further discussion on that matter. I asked if it was okay to take the Advair, since it said on the packaging it could interfere with eye problems. "Not your eye problems."

Okay then. Twenty bucks later, I'm back out on the street and can't see shit because my contacts are out and my pupils are dilated. M drove me home. We had dinner, drove up to visit my parents, went for a walk with them, came home and watched "Dirty Pretty Things" (which is quite good). Now I'm blogging.

Now I'm done.