The Eyes Have It

I went to the eye doctor for the first time in like ten years. The eye doctor for me is what I imagine the dentist to be for most other people. Dreaded. Feared. Cold sweats. 
As a youngster, one eye technician held me down, one eye technician forced my eyelids apart, and the doctor squeezed in those burning drops while I squirmed and hollered. 


So I practiced my mantra as I pulled into the parking lot. "You are an adult." "Don't cry." "You need to do the glaucoma to make sure you don't have it." "Don't be a pansy."


This joint seemed to be much more forgiving and were happy to make soothing comments (we are not going to touch your eyes), however I seem to be in the minority when it comes to eyedrop delivery. I warned in advance and was told that I could simply shut my eyes and they would place the drops in the corners. However each time the doctor gave me instruction before placing the drops- he would start to say....."Now look up.....shut your eyes." "Eyes open....shut." "Open wide....I mean shut them tight." 
And he finished up the glaucoma test by saying that he was done torturing me. Was I really that obvious? 
Luckily for me, I'm still in the pink (that means good- not pink eye) and can go on living my life without ever having to touch my eyes or put things in them. And I don't have to go back for two years.