I sat in a chair that was meant for someone larger than me. I felt small and insignificant. My stomach churned at the thought of someone filling the chair that could fit two of me, comfortably. I twiddled my thumbs with impatience.
The lady behind the counter called my name. I stood and walked towards her. She had a look of discontent on her face. My churning stomach took a bite out of my heart. Something was wrong.
"Apparently, I cannot find your C-File," she exclaimed.
I thought, "What the hell is a C-File?" And that is when my heart gave my stomach gas... "It is probably the one file everyone needs to do this check-up. Shit!"
"Your first appointment will not see you without that file. I will get your next appointment started. The doctor said he will see you without the file." Sybil said.
I thanked her and followed her to the next waiting room. The sign above the door read: Eye Exams. I quivered and then my stomach burped and took another bite of my heart. My eyes are precious to me. You cannot be a photographer with bad eyes, I think. I was lead into Dr. Green's office.
I sat down on the chair. I grew nervous. I hate being at the doctor's office. It is always a scary jarring of questions disguised as examinations which is another word for tests...
And then it began. The bright lights, reading very fine print posted on a wall, guessing at letters. My hands started to sweat. My breathing went haywire. I couldn't focus. My stomach took the final bite of my heart.
"Well, it looks like you have 20/15 vision. You can see a little better than normal." He said.
*sighs* "Wait. What?" I was confused. I was trying to fail this test to that I could get some benefits. I fail at failing.
After telling me my results of my ability to see time and space individually. He told me to lean my head back. I gasped out loud. Drops! I hate putting liquids into my eyes... And to make it worse this was an anesthetic, meaning he was going to touch my eyeball. Ew! I don't even touch my own eye balls.
I held my stomach which just enjoyed the last bit of heart I had left. I bit the bullet and braced for the touching. Blinking felt like a chore. I hated that feeling. My eyes teared up. I was leaking all over the place.
He told me to lean my head back once again. This time it was colored drops. Ugh! Now I get to see in color?!?! What kind of test is this? I mustered another ounce of courage (I guess I should use the metric system since most of my readers are not American), liter of courage... Through the yellow haze covering my eyes and my strain to see correctly. I felt like Cyclops after someone removed his visor. I was scared yellow beams would shoot out of my eyes disintegrating Dr. Green. After touching all over my naked eyes, he ushered me back to the waiting room. With dilated pupils, numb eyes, and those annoying uncool shades the docs give you, I waited...
(to be continued...)