Help for the “working myopic”
Writing by treason on Monday, 24 of April , 2006 at 10:48 pm
I’m down to my last pair of contact lenses - today is the day they’re scheduled to be tossed - and my current pair of glasses are…well, let’s just say I know my prescription has changed. I noticed when I was up last week configuring my course schedule at five in the morning that I had to take my glasses off to read. “That’s odd,” I told myself.
I called my eye doctor and made an appointment for an exam. Timing’s bad - I have no insurance - but I also hate being blind. It’s a hazard. I left here at 2:30 for a 3:00 appointment (the office isn’t far from here), so I could look at frames. They were one person short and booked solid. By the time I was out of there and driving home with dilated pupils, it was past 5:30.
I am now considered multi-focal. Yes, that’s right. Multi-focal. I require a corrective lens that allows me to read the issue of National Review that’s in my hand, the computer monitor that I’m sitting in front of, and the road that I’m driving on. Close up, intermediate, and distance.
I hate having a pair of glasses that don’t match my contact lens prescription, so that means I’m going to have to invest in a new pair. The technician was helpful and handed me a stack of rebate offers. I declined. My reasoning is that the offers were good only if I purchased a year’s supply of new contact lenses. My prescription changed dramatically within the last twelve months after years of staying fairly consistent. Who knows what my eyes will be doing six months from now?
And then it occurred to me. This is unfair. People like T who have perfect vision have never had to schedule an eye appointment, undergo those pressure tests, or be dilated. They’ve been spared not only the humiliation and inconvenience, but also the expense of multiple pairs of lenses and glasses - not to mention the cost of solution and everything else associated with being myopic.
Where’s my freaking tax break? Where’s my government program? Where’s my helping hand from Uncle Sam? If I don’t have these lenses, I’m handicapped. I can’t drive, I can’t work, I can’t shop and contribute to the economy…and that includes Italy’s economy, too. (Although the frames I’m considering this time are not made there. Maybe they’ll vote in a conservative next time I’m frame shopping.)
But you see my point. And what about those of us who have diabetic dogs? Medicare covers insulin and syringes for humans, but who covers prescriptions for dogs? Ever try to get them from a discount mail-order company? Suddenly your vet is Michael Corleone - you don’t want to even mention you’re considering PetMeds.
“Fine. You can buy your prescriptions from them. Take your chances on their quality. Risk the life of your pet. It’s a free country, after all. But don’t depend on our protection anymore. We won’t have your prescription for you. We don’t deal with those people. Understand, it’s not personal. It’s strictly business.”
Between the marathon eye exam and the diabetic dog dropping low and doing St. Vitus’ dance in the hearth room tonight, I totally spaced 24. Can someone tell me what the hell happened?
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