Q: What do you call a psychotherapist who says that the far side of the moon is responsible for your primative urges?
A: A Neo-Floydian
So my adventures continue. On the fourth of July I was watching the fireworks from right behind the stadium, and unfortunately, I caught a burning ember with my eye. I had to go to the doctor's to get the ember out, and then see an ophthalmologist to determine that yes, there was nothing else in my eye, but it appears to be burned.
The ophthalmologist had a curious instrument, full of mirrors, lights, and lenses. I guess it could have been a phoropter, I should have asked. I wonder what my cornea looks like. I secretly like going to the doctor. I like waiting in the room and looking at all the bottles on the shelves and wondering what is in the drawers (after I've been to an office a few times, I usually garner enough courage to open the drawers and gaze at long, slender, stainless steel instruments). I like looking at other patients in waiting rooms and guessing what they're in for. Sometimes it's fun to look at the old magazines in the waiting rooms and see which articles are the most-thumbed. I'll bet the nurses have secret codes for things too.