1 November 2019 (Friday) - At the Eye Clinic
Being the first of the month we did the dogs’ flea treatments this morning. Fudge and Pogo were as good as gold and sat still for it; Treacle ran in terror and hid. The flea treatment involves having a few drops of stuff put on the back of the neck. It smells a bit odd, and Treacle really doesn’t like it. Silly girl.
As I looked at Facebook there was a lot of crowing from the anti-Brexit brigade because Brexit didn’t happen yesterday, and the forecast riots didn’t happen. Mind you I must admit to being rather sceptical about the latest Brexit deferment. For all that the UK has three months to sort it out, nothing is going to happen. With a general election in the offing, there will be six weeks of election talk which will form what will in all likelihood be a hung parliament, and in three months time the nation will be back where it has been for some time; supposedly wanting to leave the EU with no plan for doing so.
"er indoors TM" drove me to the local hospital where I had a couple of appointments for my iffy vision. I took my place in Clinic C and waited patiently whilst the family from hell raged around me. Mother was swearing into her phone whilst her two children ran round the waiting area shrieking. Periodically one or other brat would run up brandishing a surgical glove or a plastic syringe or whatever they had pilfered from one of the consulting rooms. Looking back I’m not sure what was worse; the brattish behaviour or the mother’s utter indifference.
I was called in (five minutes early) to see the orthoptist. I explained that I’d had double vision, that I thought it was probably caused by the ill-fitting new glasses which had now been rectified. The nice lady had me look at things as she covered my eyes in turn, and then had me watch as she waved a torch here, there and thither. She then waxed lyrically about my amblyopia; a condition that I knew I had some twenty years before she was born.
The orthoptist then sent me on to my next appointment which was half-way across the hospital. Not in the same clinic as I’d been told it would be. I found where I was supposed to go, and with nothing else to do I watched the rugby world cup on the big telly.
It was rather dull.
I know a lot of people get really excited about rugby; I wish I could see the attraction. After fifteen minutes I think I’d seen it all.
I was called in an hour after the time I was told that my appointment would be. I sat down and again explained why I was there. The nice man then started doing pretty much exactly what the nice lady had done a couple of hours earlier. After five minutes he looked at his computer screen for the first time, looked again, and asked if I’d already seem an orthoptist this morning.
He then put some drops in my eyes to dilate the pupils, and sent me to go and wait some more.
After fifteen minutes a consultant eye-doctor turned up, and apologetically asked if I wouldn’t mind walking with him to a consulting room some distance away (as everywhere closer was in use). For a third time I explained what I thought had been wrong with my eyes. The nice consultant shone a light into my eyes and had a good look. He then looked at me oddly, and exclaimed that my ears weren’t level.
His opinion was that I was right. I’d had double vision because of ill-fitting glasses causing eye strain, and now that the glasses are (supposedly) right, my eyes should slowly be going back to how they should be. He wants me to go back in a while once my eye muscles have recovered.
Because of the eye drops and dilated pupils I couldn’t see to drive, so "My Boy TM" collected me, and took me for McLunch.
I then walked the dogs round the park. It was a wet afternoon; I would rather not have gone out, but the dogs (Fudge in particular) insisted. As we walked we met Ralph the pug, but no other dogs. No one else was daft enough to get wet.
We came home; I watched the first episode of “Power”. I’m not sure I like it, but "My Boy TM" says to stick with it. I then played Lego for a while whilst video-calling on Facebook messenger with "Daddy’s Little Angel TM".
"My Boy TM" and Cheryl came round for dinner, then went off out to watch fireworks with "er indoors TM". I stayed home to look after the dogs. I didn’t want them home alone whilst fireworks might be going off.
As I dog-sat I arranged the family pre-Christmas get together. We’d planned to have a meal at a pub in Brookland. I phoned the pub; they didn’t take bookings; we should just turn up. I said there would a dozen of us. They said we should just turn up, and they might be able to seat us all, or they might not. I said I would take my money to someone who actually wanted it, and the woman at the other end of the phone had no idea what my problem was.
I phoned the Queens Head in Icklesham who were more than happy for us to have a table for twelve.
"er indoors TM" came home from bowling with a McFlurry. Result !!