Yesterday was an experience. Mother and I had eye exams in tandem. First she got her vision test. Then the doctor (we have a new one since our long-time doctor recently retired) started the inner eye exam and glaucoma test. Mother's Parkinson's turned it into a 3 person activity, with me steadying her head. Then she put the drops in Mother's eyes to start dilation and while that was in progress, I got my vision test. Then we swapped chairs twice more, alternating the various stages of the exam.
When finally we had both been thoroughly examined and I had been given samples of drops for both of us and enough instructions for each of us that I have no faith at all in my being able to remember who is supposed to use which drops or which procedures, we proceeded out to select our new glasses frames. We were in big, deep do.
The exams had gone fairly well, all things considered, but we were both exhausted at that point with all the unusual amount of up and down and chair shifting. We were also blind as bats from the dilation. Thankfully the doctor used the so-called mild version on me, but that didn't make things much better. I was directed to get frames "just like what I have", which was an impossible task considering the last time Mother got new frames was back during the Clinton years. I threatened to get her some Buddy Holly specs, but she didn't find that very funny. I finally came up with some frames that suited her. And about that time the place was closing for the lunch hour.
The primary technician and I have been friends for many years and many pairs of glasses. We always argue about which frames I can have with my extra thick lenses. This time he saw his advantage. He knew I was tired, blind and feeling guilty about keeping them away from lunch. So he started grabbing frames off the wall and ordering me to try them on. From his choices I made my selection. All I have to say is if I look like hell next week when I put those new glasses on, it's not my fault. It's his. If I look better than I've ever looked - well, don't tell me. I would hate to have to admit to him that he's been right all these years.
Thank heavens that's over with.