Wednesday, August 20

Vision Quest

today was my annual visit to the eye doc, and while it was better than most, it was still frustrating. every year, it's a 3-step process:
1) see the doctor, get a modified prescription;
2) go back in about a week to pick up new lenses;
3) walk into a wall with the new lenses.

in the 10 years since i've been in Dallas, I've seen 3 or 4 different eye doctors (optologists). i've been seeing my current doc for about the last 6 years, so i must be relatively giddy.

some of the mistakes of the past:
1) seeing a doc whose main attribute was a convenient location (he offices in a designer sunglass store, and spent more time describing his upcoming golf outing to Bora Bora than my eyes);
2) seeing a doc who rotates between multiple locations of a chain (oh, it's Tuesday .. your doc is in Boise today)

years ago (in another city), i went to an opthalmologist but (for whatever reason) i was unable to locate one in Dallas. i know, i should've looked harder, yet I digress.

my uncorrected vision is 20/400, so says the doc. In case you don't ack that number, it means that I see in 20 feet what the rest of you see in 400 feet. Like an oncoming car, 133 yards away. i have moderate astigmatism, hence the gas permeable lenses. i've considered LASIK surgery, but would prefer stable vision for a few years before doing that.

query to self: since "perfect vision" is widely thought of as "20/20" vision, and this is based on the number of FEET to a target, do other countries translate this to metric? does Canada consider perfect vision to be "6.1/6.1"? (metres)

amusing tidbit: the doc told me that they get multiple patients who are getting lenses for the first time after a trip to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles), who failed them on the eye exam and wouldn't issue a license. They come in "hopping mad", are tested, and are found to have 20/200 vision! Yikes!

i like this vision practice because they run several tests, don't seem to be rushing me around just to maximize throughput, have a large staff, and a trio of (seemingly) competent doctors. the routine is usually:

  1. sign in

  2. sit down, complete an updated medical history (not as detailed as when I donated blood last month)

  3. sign the form saying that i received the Notice of Privacy Practices (mandatory as of 14 April 2003)

  4. take some tests (administered by an assistant):

    1. focus (automated: a cartoon of a hot air balloon at the end of a long road)

    2. the "wavy lines" (peripheral vision)

    3. depth perception (about 12 lines of 5 objects/line; the object is to pick out the one which appears nearest

    4. pressure (a "poof of air")

    5. quick eye chart (remove your contacts; read the lowest line on the chart; "What chart?")


  5. return to the waiting area

  6. go see the eye doc .. he does the "which is better: A or B? 5 or 6? 1 or 2?" tests while tweaking the Big Pair of Glasses machine. he listens to me kvetch about how the last set of contacts aren't working any more. he issues a new prescription, says they'll call me when they arrive.


Every few visits, I agree to an additional step: the dilation. This is where they squirt some Miracle Liquid into my eyes (causing the pupil to dilate) and then they take some retinal photos which temporarily blind me. This year, it was much better than before. The 2003 version of the Miracle Liquid is different: it takes longer to dilate the pupil, but wears off much faster than before. That way, you are not Blinded By The Light for nearly as long, and standard sunglasses seemed to allow me to drive without a lot of worry about hitting anyone/anything.

another improvement since my last dilation is moving from an instant ("Polaroid") photo to digital .. each of the 6 exam rooms has a networked PC with a 21" flat-panel display, which allows saving/viewing/inspecting your retina photograph. way cool. doc says my retinas's fine, no sign of glaucoma, etc. however, he's still undecided on my ability to ever play the piano again.

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