I think I've mentioned that my family made me believe I was going deaf last year. They walk around muttering and low talking around me, and I'm forever saying, "What? Huh?" and then they talk very slowly and loudly, over-enunciating and then mocking me. Which was super funny until I served them the trichonosis ham at Christmas. It was an accident, of course. OR WAS IT?
So, on the whole hearing thing (HUH!?), I ended up so freaked out by it that I made an appointment at an ENT office and had a hearing test. I had to go to a room with little tiny preschool chairs, and put on little pink Minnie Mouse headphones, and stare at a Disney mural while they administered the hearing test. When I walked out, the tech said, "Um, yeah, so not only is your hearing good, it's actually above normal. So....you're fine." I paid the $300, which was not covered by insurance, and went home to my low-talkers who were all making me think I was crazy. (I SAID MADE ME THINK I WAS CRAZY!)
So in the past year, I've had to start using reading glasses. I seem to really have trouble seeing, so I picked out a 2.0 strength pair. Lately, those seem to be blurring my words as well. It was time to upgrade from my Walgreens readers to some real glasses. Hopefully bifocals, because they'll go with my Depends. (Do those Kegels, girls. Ready...and HOLD...and...release.) I asked friends for an eye doctor recommendation, and went with the one who has the same name as CH and my masseuse, because I'm intent on building a stable of men with the same name who are here to serve me.
Today, I go to the eye doctor's office. While waiting for my name to be called, I checked out some eyeglasses...ooh, there are some cool Lacoste ones. Will I look like Tina Fey in THESE:
Being old might not be so bad if I can look bookishly hip. Maybe rock a Naughty Librarian look. Okay, I can do this. "Julie?" I take my first step toward my revamped image as I walk into the exam room.
My oompah-loompishly tanned tech was very nice, but kept looking at my chart with furrowed brow. "What is it you are being seen for? How blurry are the words?" I started getting worried - was this some kind of ocular malfeseance, the likes of which had never been seen before by this office? The doctor walked in with the same name as my husband and gave me a speech not unlike one I would hear from CH:
"Your vision is 20/20. You're just getting old."
Um, do I pick up those Lacoste lenses on the way out as a parting gift, Doc? Because you just harshed my buzz. I went from Tina Fey to Estelle Getty in 60 seconds. It turns out that when you are OLD, your lens in your eye quits being bendy - "Much like your knees, Julie" is what he said, just before I accidentally punched my bad knee into his scrotal sac - and won't move as quickly, hence your blurry words. Also? My readers are too strong - I need closer to a 1.0, the 2.0 strength is making me hold my book closer to my face. I can't even get my readers right! What is my name? Where am I? Jesus, is that you?
I don't need glasses. I need burial insurance.
So in the past six months, I've had my hearing checked and it is above average, and I've had my vision checked and it's 20/20, and yet, I CAN'T SEE OR HEAR A DAMN THING.
Conclusion? You're old. That'll be $400. Come back in two years so we can ridicule you some more.