<--This is the best ad for eyewear ever. Here, "best" means "absolutely ridiculous."
Somehow, I got roped into getting my eyes dilated today. I went for my annual eye exam, which is always chock full of moving from room to room and resting my chin on different chin rests and pushing my forehead against different metal bars and starting at red dots and green dots and a hot air balloon and flashes going off in my eyeballs and lenses lenses and more lenses being switched at rapid speed in front of each eye so I can never really tell which one is clearer and I usually say "that one" randomly.
So in between glaucoma tests and puffs of air pushed into my eyes, the doctor said something about my usually getting dilation while I'm there instead of coming back, and then I was getting drops that sting really badly and then I could barely see as I sat down to get new frames since I haven't had new frames since 2008 and I have a new prescription. Frame after frame, we tried on and gave thumbs up, thumbs down, and thumbs sideways. I fell in love with two frames, one metal and one plastic, and chose the metal one as it's easier to adjust to my face.
I have crooked ears. One is higher than the other. So glasses always need adjustment. I also blame my ears for my not being able to wear hats. I look weird in hats. Maybe I just have a small head. Or maybe the hat industry needs to make some smaller hats for adults.
Anyway, my pupils finished dilating, they took pictures of my eyes, and then the doctor looked at the pictures, praised the frames we'd chosen, and sent me on my merry way, explaining that since the frames covered by my plan were ugly, I should stick with the frames I found and let the plan cover my contacts, which is less coverage since contacts are cosmetic, but still, it's coverage.
Blurry-eyed and bleary, I got to the counter to find out the damage.
512. Dollars. American.
That's with a discount on the frames, mind you. A 30% discount on the frames plus insurance "coverage" and I'm shelling out $512.
I asked the receptionist, Can you tell me what the insurance covered exactly?
She goes, 60 dollars.
Then she, the receptionist next to her, and I shared a silent pause and then a weird laugh.
I left after putting it on a credit card. I had decided to do some errands as I waited for my eyes to dilate since the dilation was taking me well past noon, the time I would have had to leave to go see a Silver Screen movie for two bucks with T (and she canceled anyway due to a relapse in a cold). When I got outside, I fashioned my sunglasses over my regular glasses and headed to the library. Not wanting to look like a complete idiot, I took off the sunglasses to walk into the library. I was walking with my eyes almost closed. You know, so I didn't look like an idiot doing that.
I took out a book of poetry on my list plus a book not on my list but by an author with the last name Olson because I had an Olsen accidentally left on my list and the book had a cute cover. Whoever said you can't judge a book by its cover did not work in the publishing industry.
Heading back to the car--with my eyes mostly closed--I decided to go home instead, and I've been cooped up in the house, unable to look at daylight, kind of like a gremlin. Being cooped up on a sunny day is not fun, especially when I think about the events of the morning; how can my eye care cost that much? Seriously? I don't know why using my frames from 2008 was a huge negative. I don't know why the frames the insurance covers are ugly ones.
I don't understand what a big difference 60 dollars is; actually, it's almost insulting. It's like, oh you need 500 dollars to see? Hmm, well, I'll give you this monacle I got from the costume shop for your left eye and this microscope for your right eye. If you don't using those, then you can go ahead and buy yourself your own damn glasses. Which is what I did.