My New Prescription

Lino spotted me rubbing my head at the office a couple of weeks ago, followed by swallowing several Advil tablets. She immediately got on the phone and made an appointment for me with the eye doctor. Since that Tuesday was Poya, I was scheduled for Wednesday. Lino said, “You go to this hospital at noon and tell them you are number ten…bring a book or yo-yo or something.” Well, heck, I know that from my own health care system. I really thought I could just hold out until I got home, but the eyestrain headaches are miserable. My passport, which is looking decidedly worse for the wear, also contains my ratty and tattered World Health Organization form. This details all the vaccinations; pre-existing conditions; meds I’m taking; blood type; drug allergies and next of kin. There is also a space for optical information. I didn’t remember doing this, but apparently I had the prescription from my last exam entered on the form. At least they have a place to start when they call on number ten.
Travel Tip: Do write down your prescription for glasses. It would be bad to go on the trip of a lifetime and not be able to see any of it.
The appointment got cancelled. The doctor had to attend a funeral. They rescheduled for that Friday at 9:30 where I got kicked up the list to number eight. I got a call on Thursday, just as I was returning from the polls, canceling my Friday appointment because it was the day after the election…and as a rule, no one goes out. I’m confused now because Friday, November 18th has been the “day after the election” pretty much all year. I wish they had said something like, “Barring bloodshed and mayhem in the streets, your appointment is on Friday at 9:30.” There was no bloodshed but we did cock our heads a few times to try to discern whether we were hearing firecrackers or gunshots. The casual attitude of the locals is usually a good indicator that there’s nothing to worry about. The guy canceling the second appointment with me had only fledgling English skills, so I decided I’d see if Lino could reschedule me…in Sinhalese. The headaches lessened in their severity and it didn’t seem so urgent…until recently.
The eyestrain headaches came back with a vengeance and Lino made another appointment for me. Miraculously, this one actually happened. The meeting with the doctor was rather like stepping back several years. There is this huge case with lenses and you put on the ugly pair of frames while they drop different strengths in and make you read from the phone book. Once we worked out “better” “worse” and “no difference” to our mutual satisfaction, I had my new prescription. At the opticians, they presented me with every frou-frou pair of frames in the store. I finally had to show them all my current, plain Jane glasses so they would stop with the jewel encrusted tortoise shell stuff. My friend Sue and her daughters always help me pick out my frames. They reason that I only have to look through them and couldn’t normally care less what they look like but they have to look at them. It was my first solo expedition into frame buying.
It took four days to make the glasses…they called me to tell me my “spectacles” were ready and Roy and I went to pick them up. It’s always the same when I get new glasses, “Wow, look at that…What does that sign say...Did you see that?” You can’t sight-see while you’re driving a tuk-tuk so I just kept getting quizzical glances in the rear view mirror and an occasional head bobble. It really annoyed the hell out of Roy, so I bought him a Happy Meal before he took me back to the office.