Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Lucky Charms - Part 2

The ophthalmologist stunk like a wet dog at low tide. (Not literally, of course.)

I don't understand how people like this are successful medical professionals. I guess their incredible genius just sours over time, warping their minds from strong muscle to soggy Jello-like sludge.

Last week I read and reviewed well over 100 college admissions essays. These students write truly touching anecdotes, times when they were inspired by their own doctors, or surgeons of loved ones. Men and women who save people's lives, treat the needy locally and around the world. Fellow human beings who use their education for the world--to help those who can't help themselves. Eighteen-year-old Future Doctors inspire me. They have such pure, noble intentions. They are so passionate about biology and, more importantly, the human experience. They want to help people.

When is it that med students lose sight of that genuine quality? Or I suppose some never had it in the first place. At this point, I've had it up to here with doctors who are so full of themselves, so sure of their own expertise that even the EYE DOCTOR can't see past his own nose at the sick, suffering patients in front of him.

The story:

After waiting forever and filling out a zillion forms, the two associate optometrists were really nice and sympathetic, running the procedural vision tests and trying to understand my medical history. THEN the super-genius ophthalmologist comes in and rips me apart. He basically says that my eyes "were never taught to 'work together'" --like I've been going to some mental reject school -- and it's a miracle I've been at all successful academically. He says I have major issues with depth-perception and says to my dad, in a nasty way, "If you let this kid drive, you better put another bumper on the car!" [Note: if he'd read my forms, he would have known I haven't driven for several months, due to my drowsiness and *bing bing* EYE problems.]

He insults my father, blaming him for this hereditary condition. He tries to sell us this CD-rom program to fix my vision. He yammers endlessly about how he's trained Olympic athletes. (Whoop-de-doo, Bub. Good for you.) Meanwhile, my ears are spasmodic, and I'm having difficulty breathing. Besides it's been a long day and I'm fading fast. I motion to my dad that we should get going. My dad clears his throat and says we have to get home. THEN the doc looks at me and says rudely, "What's going on? Is she going to be all right?"--in a tone of voice akin to, "Ugh, is she going to get sick on the floor?" Well, Mr. Internationally-Acclaimed-
Eye-Doctor, if you had GLANCED at my flippin forms, you would know that I have been really terribly ill for about 5 months. Buzz off, Bozo.


So yeah. He didn't find anything in my eye or optic nerve or anything that could be medically causing my symptoms. Crossing that off the list.

I'm proud of myself and my parents for not physically hurting anyone so far. And I love my mommy very much 'cuz online she posts scathing reviews for doctors that treat me like trash. :)

Will post again first thing tomorrow once we hear word about the tilt-table test.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!


  1. Meh. That doctor doesn't sound fun at all.

  2. You pose a question I really wish I knew the answer to Emma. I avoided medical school because of that. I have no idea how many egos can fit into such a small place.

  3. Leggo my eggo!

    haha next month my blog posts should be named after other breakfast foods :)

    silly egos. i wonder how they'd react if they saw a video tape of themselves talking like that to their patients. =/