An interesting experience

Well, that was an interesting experience.

Ever since I received my diabetes diagnosis, some weeks ago, the NHS (National Health Service) have been sending advice, appointments with phlebotomists and now a ‘Diabetic Eye Screening’ appointment. No, I didn’t know what that was either, but went along for the ride, so to speak.

I also didn’t know that there were two ‘health centres’ in the same small road, and virtually at the same place. Me being me, obviously, went to the wrong one. I was shown through the reception window where I should be, next door or rather across the very small pebble strewn ‘garden’.

When I arrived I was alone. Alone, that is, as in there was no other person in evidence, anywhere, not even a receptionist. The computer screen (where you sign in to say that you have arrived) asked me not to sign in to say that I had arrived but, instead, to wander round the corner to the waiting room. So I did as I was told and plonked my girth on a small blue plastic chair. 60s music was playing from a very small radio very similar to the portable one I had when I was fourteen. I was regaled by Marc Bolan and a 60s mix which was nostalgic, and not unpleasant. After my appointment time had passed I was approached by the only other person I had encountered in that vaguely Kafkaesque building, and asked my date of birth. I was asked to wait further. Still the waiting room had only one client, me.

The same be-uniformed female personage reappeared, called out my name to the waiting room and looked around, there was still only me and her in the room. She then asked me to follow her. I meekly did so.

She patiently, and with a darkish and somewhat macabre humour, began to test my staying power by outlining what was going to happen to me in that room, and for the next few hours. I was to be stung by fluid in my eyes. I would cry, I would follow dots of light with my pupils frozen open for several hours, I would be dizzy and unable to drive. I explained that I already was unable to drive, as I have no car. The, now slightly friendly, health care official asked if I was accompanied by my wife. I looked around, then explained I had none.

After a few moments of stinging eyes, crying and a sensation which in my youth I might have gained from ingesting either a sugar cube or small square of blotting paper laced with a non-legal substance, camera play (Cannon) eyes to right and eyes to the left, I was released. Four hours later my pupils are still dilated, but I am able to see a little more clearly and type this.