OMG! My Lashes!

Doctors can be a pain in the ass, literally. It is like they can’t even feel your pain when they are shoving needles in you or probing wherever on your body.

For a few days now, I have been feeling some pains in the upper part of my left eye, especially when I’m reading on my phone or any screen. I kept telling myself it will get better because I was not ready to face the horrors of the hospital. I have a phobia for hospitals, hospitophobia or whatever that is called.

It got to a point that I had no choice but to see the doctor. On my way to the hospital, I felt like I was about to go and get tortured.

When I got to the there, it turned out my fears where well founded. After explaining my symptoms to the doctor, he looked at me and smiled. It was the kind of smile that a lion gives a goat before eating it, at least that was how it looked to me.

This doctor went ahead to a shelf and started bringing out these flat, long boxes. He brought out three. I prepared myself for the scary things that would be in those boxes but how do I explain what I saw when the first one was opened?

I didn’t know I had exclaimed “ye!” until the doctor looked at me with a startled face. Then he smiled again and went for the second box. “Ah!” I shouted again when I saw a very long needle with a curved end among the horrific instruments.

“Doctor”, I stammered, “you…is that needle … do you put that needle in someone’s eye?”

“this?” he asked, holding it up,” well, yes but it doesn’t hurt” (really? And hell can freeze over)

“But you are not using it for me right?”

“No”, that smile again, “I’m just going to pull out your eyelashes”

“What?!” I shouted, “you are pulling out my lashes?! My long lashes?!” I was standing up now and backing towards the door with each word. He looked up from his boxes of horrors exploration and frowned,

“Young lady, if you are not ready to be treated, you can leave. I have patients waiting and you can let your eye get worse”.

 He was standing now and I need not be told that a minute delay on my part before my bum connects back to the patient’s chair would make him call for the next patient. So, I forced myself back to the seat and sat while he finally found the instrument he was looking for. Everything in those boxes was steel. Cold, hard steel. Did I mention that I have a phobia for hospitals?

With the help of a nurse who held me down, he deprived my eye of its natural protectors, and he was smiling while doing it! By the time he was through, tears of pain and loss was streaming down my cheeks.

“Now, do you feel better?” he asked teasingly.

“No” I snapped, with a look that is meant to ask “what sort of silly question is that?”

I must admit though, my eye felt a lot better. Right now, the pains are less and far between. But I paid the price.

 A big price.

 I feel tearful when I remember my lashes and I wonder if they will grow back.