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2004-08-03 @ 9:45 p.m.
blow on my eyeball and I'll follow you anywhere

So the day started out with the pretty much expected call from “A”. (I never went and got my Medicaid receipt yesterday because I was in a snit about being hung up on). When I saw his name on my caller ID this morning, I was pretty much into my Kiss Me Ass posture, don’t give me any shit, I’m right-you’re wrong, kneel down before me, etc. etc. etc. I’m not usually like that, but I’ve had so much anger broiling up lately that I just spring to that posture almost without thinking. And I did yell at him. Profusely. And he denied hanging up. And I’m like...Well I was talking and suddenly the line went dead..what’s that, huh?

And then his voice started getting a little condescending, like he was talking to a five year old.

And I hate that shit. Do anything but talk to me like I’m five. Why? Because that’s motive for dismissal from the universal, as far as I’m concerned. He finally told me to meet him at 1 p.m. for the big exchange of money for receipt. I had to have the damn receipt for my Medicaid, because I had an eye appointment at 2.

Did a quick load of laundry down at the Spin Cycle. It was hot and humid out. My favorite combo. And what great brewing conditions for an angsty, angry girl with a bad heat rash under her left breast. Damn that rash. Do I wear a bra and aggravate it with the material rubbing it? Or do I go a’la natural and just let my own derma do the same thing? Decisions, decisions. Oh, and its also Day 13 of the world’s longest period. I feel tired.

Finally got to “A”s office about 12:55. Saw him loping in from the parking lot. He doesn’t really walk. He kind of lopes. Its actually kind of endearing. Damn. Don’t endear me....when I’m going to yell at you.

It was really nice to get into the air conditioning. But I knew the next couple of minutes were going to be...well, angsty. We pretty much did a replay of the morning’s conversation, but this time he didn’t do the condescending thing, which was good, since I was within whacking distance of him.

He still denied hanging up, and said several things. 1) He thought I hung up. (no) 2) He tried calling back for 20 minutes but the line was busy (no, since its a large agency and it would never be busy that long. 3) His cell phone may have cut out. (I dunno, but he has like 3-4 phones in his office. Walk over, and pick up one of those.) If I hung up, why not call me back? if his cell phone cut out, go to another phone. The phone being busy for 20 minutes just doesn’t make sense. And then he asked me like 5-6 times...”Have I ever hung up on you since I've known you” No, but there’s always a first time for everything.

Things finally calmed down a little. He still wants to get all the people in my life into his office. He says I keep everyone and everything separate, and he doesn’t understand why. And he’s still bugging me about getting Married Guy in there. Yeah, right. The day Paris Hilton admits she’s still a virgin.

So I guess we left on better terms, then we entered. He also told me, he’s not the enemy. Well, ok. And for once, he actually admitted that my life might be a little rough right now. Usually, I feel like he thinks I’m entirely responsible for everything being in total ruins, when in reality, some of it is circumstantial, and some of it is just because people on disability just can’t make it on what they get each month. In fact, right before I left for “A”s office, I had gotten a phone call from my insurance company telling me that my car insurance would be canceled at 12:01 a.m. August 5th, if I didn’t show up with a payment today.

Yippie!

Then it was onto the Eye Doctor! Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to get the Medicaid receipt to Medicaid office, so I was holding my breath when the receptionist called in my card number. I have a pretty decent Medicaid worker now though. Mrs. Swift. And she is. The last one wasn’t. Mrs. My-Head-Is-Hopelessly-Lodged-In-My-Ass. She was the worst. Most months I’d try to get meds like on the 15th, and I wouldn’t have any coverage, because Mrs. M-H-I-H-L-I-M-A, would still have my receipts and paperwork misfiled on her desk.

I don’t know how many times I called and screamed at her. And as previously mentioned, I’m not generally the screaming type. I remember once I was taken to the emergency room after a bad reaction to a medication and nearly had to pay a $1000 ER visit bill because of her ineptitude. She’d always say, “I have to ask my supervisor about that” and then put me on hold for about 20 minutes, and then the line would go dead. I think she went on to work for “A”s billing service.

Fortunately my Medicaid was hooked up so it was onto the Eye Doctor paperwork.

First question: What brings you to Sterling Optical today? Damn they always start with the hardest questions first. Umm....

ahhhhh.....

......

......

ummmm...

sterling optical.....

ummmm....

I think its because when I look at something that looks like this...

it looks more like this...

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Yup, that’s it.

What do you like most about your current glasses?

That I look really cute in them and that I haven’t lost them in the five years that I’ve had them, and that must be some kind of world’s record for eye glass ownership. Oh, and I look really cute in them.

What do you like the least about your current glasses?

Aside from the fact that I can no longer see anything smaller than a highway billboard....Ummm, did I mention that I look really cute in them?

I was soon ushered into this little dark office at the back of the building by the “doctor”. Is he really a doctor? I guess an Optometrist is a Doctor. This guy looked like one of the nerdy guys at the Stepford Wive’s Men Club. He had on a kind of ill-fitting tan blazer, black pants and sported a kind of Donald Trumpy 'do. I had to sit in this chair and he said that I was going to get a puff of air on each eye-ball.

Wow, somebody was going to blow my eyeball. Cool!

And in a days with so many highs and lows, this was definitely the pinnacle. And to think, I was being blown by a Stepford Guy too. Woo hoo!

I then had to put my cute little delicate chin in a series of chin rests while looking into weird, glassy things, and read Russian looking Letters at the far end of the building and say when things were blurry (pretty much always).

The one time I chose to speak out, was a plaintive plea. Please don’t make me wear bifocals. I hate bifocals. But Mr., oh I mean, Dr. Stepford said it was the practical thing to do. And I said, “Practical. Well, that’ll be a first for me. Something practical.” ha, ha, ha.

Gulp. He didn’t even smile. I guess my breasts weren’t big enough to bring him pleasure.

Afterwards I was led up to the front counter to pick out my new frames. My new ugly Medicaid frames. The woman dragged out a box with about 25 frames. I remember the last time I got glasses at Walmart, I meandered amongst the large array of eye glass frames for probably an hour, trying to decide which frames would make me look most fabulous. But today, the receptionist was staring me down. Like hurry the fuck up, you stupid Medicaidian. I even said, “Should I step on it?”

So I picked out my new frames in probably under 5 minutes. An all time record for any wittykitty decision. Ever.

And in a mere, 2-3 weeks, I will be all geek-like in my new Medicaid glasses, and for the first time in probably about 2-3 years, I might even be able to pick up a book and read...a pleasure I haven’t been able to partake in, since blindness set in '01. Yay!

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty

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