Last week after receiving a painful middle of the night poke in the eye from Adam, Jessica decided she needed to see the eye doctor and asked me if I wanted her to make an appointment for me too.
I did. I had been planning to go to my regular ophthalmologist ever since I went to have my eyes checked at the diabetes clinic a few months ago (August, actually). At the clinic a doctor, who looked nothing like a doctor (and not in a cool way) had checked my eyes with one of those machines that shines a light into your eyes and after he finished he said, “You have the start of diabetic retinopathy in your eyes.”
I was shocked and upset but decided I should definitely get a second opinion, even go to a retina specialist. But I didn’t.
I told myself there wasn’t much point, I mean, all of my regular eye exams had been fine until this one. How could one doctor see damage and another not? I understand that you can miss something that exists but you can’t see something that doesn’t, right?
Well apparently I was wrong. When I went to my doctor I told him about my check up at the clinic.
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” he asked. “Let’s take a look.”
I got on the chair and placed my head into the contraption. He shined a painful yellow light into my eyes.
“You’re clean,” he said. “Next time come to me.”
“But how did the other doctor see damage?” I asked.
My doctor said something I didn’t really understand, but I didn’t care. I was happy to hear I do not have diabetic retinopathy.