The Anti Arty Farty Party …thoughts of an Ageing Hippy Highlander

Ocular anaesthesia…

…is not to be recommended as a regular leisure activity.

I had to go to the local hospital today to get my eyes checked out and was told not to drive to the appointment. I did, of course, but with a backup plan involving the Wife if required.

I duly arrived and was taken to a wee room (only an hour after I arrived!) where the nurse put some drops into my eyes and told me this was to “numb” my eyes. OK, now I’m getting concerned…what the fuck were they going to do to my eyes that needed them to be numb?

So then she drips some other stuff in my eyes apparently to dilate my pupils. Back to the waiting room for the call to see the doctor.

WTF!!!

As I sat there, with this very weird sensation building in my eyes, I looked around and saw a room full of old, sad, tired and thoroughly fed up people, in some cases, obviously succumbing to dementia. It got me thinking again about lifestyle and why my live now, fuck tomorrow attitude is so frowned on. The saddest for me were the old men.

Maybe we’ve got used to seeing old women but I just found the situation the old men found themselves in particularly sad. Most couldn’t see and many were deaf and all looked weary and ready for going. What is the point in living to the point that it’s just a series of miserable events? Handfuls of drugs every day, clinic visits all too often and terminal ennui in front of increasingly pointless TV.

Turning food into shit doesn’t appeal to me as a full time occupation, particularly when the machine that does the processing is on its last legs.

Fucking smoking bans and health natzis everywhere yet if we all took their advice we’d simply live long enough to be one more of these poor, sad old souls filling up the outpatient clinics all over the country. Fuck it, I’d rather live how I want now and if I die 5 years earlier then so what.

So half-​an-​hour later the doc calls me through and does all kinds of stuff to my eyes. Didn’t feel a thing and the diagnoses was good. No problems…false alarm.

Out in the waiting room I assessed the situation and was told that the anaesthetic affected people differently and it would probably be OK to drive if my vision wasn’t blurred. It wasn’t — I just felt like my eyes were twice their normal size.

I decided to go for it. The plan was that the Wife would come and get me if I couldn’t drive but I felt confident that I could see OK.

Out into the car-​park…

…Jesus H Christ it’s fucking bright out here!

It was like staring into a huge spotlight and it didn’t help that today was a glorious bright and sunny autumn afternoon! I’d forgotten about the second set of drops — to dilate my pupils!

I got to the car, squinting like a…well you decide for yourself, and sat there in a complete whiteout. I must have looked like the wee chap in the picture. Anyway, it felt like that.

So I sat like a twat for a couple of hours until the worst of it wore off. I was, of course, too fucking stubborn to call the Wife as I’d told her I’d be fine and to stop making a fuss. On with the shades and home in one piece.

Anyway, interesting experience but not really one I want to repeat if at all possible.