II
III
When my turn came to "see the doctor", I was actually ushered by an assistant to a small room, where I received the requisite eyedrops, and was told, after the fact, that they would burn in my eyes. Thanks. But I guess it takes
away any squeamishness to not be told beforehand. I wiped away my tears and received a cursory pre-exam. I failed it properly, and was ushered into a
proper exam room, where I waited some more.
The doc came in and read his patient's chart. I mentioned the eyelid problem,
and he took a look, deciding that a full exam was impossible with that cyst
(as it was described) on my lid - it apparently made my right eye unfit for
examination. So the exam that was done was mainly to get the left eye checked; the right eye will be re-examined on a subsequent visit. Lots of "which looks better, 13 or 14?"; often the settings in the viewpiece looked alike, but I tried hard to decide firmly and quickly, feeling that I was already adding to a too-busy day by quibbling over the sameness of 13 and 14. The last part of the exam was a close look at my eyelid, the manipulation of which came all in one sudden, startling motion, while my head was in the stirrup. On, next, to the surgery room, and more waiting.
In the adjacent room, some people were installing new laser surgery equipment. I waited a little more, thinking back to the removal of a previous cyst, years ago, and how it was done so quickly and painlessly as to be a mere blip in my memory. I looked forward to life without this current lump, where I could once again sleep with the right side of my face against the pillow without fear of making the swelling worse overnight. I waited some more.
IV
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