What Are You, Colorblind???

It's always seemed odd that one of my kids constantly confuses his colours (that's Australian for colors). My husband has always said that he has an issue differentiating some colors, so I figured we should check this out.

So a couple of months ago I pulled up an online colorblind test to see if there may be a problem.


He saw the number-- uh, do you?

A couple weeks later we went to the general practitioner for an eczema situation-- and she whipped out the colorblind tests and advised that she likes to do these with four year olds. Well the poor guy couldn't see anything... and I was like- doh?? He saw them on the internet??

So she gave us the highly coveted specialist referral- cause you can't do anything in Australia without a referral-- oh right, at least everyone here has health care.

Anyway, so as with the last specialist we had to see, it took two months to get an appointment-- and yesterday was finally the lucky day. While I was interested to know if they thought he had a problem, I wasn't really sure what the point was. There's nothing to actually do about it should he have an issue except advise his teacher, then at least she can stop putting him in the corner for coloring grass red in class. They don't do that at your preschool?

Moving on, I thought the appointment was for 10am-- and we got there at 9;40am. Upon check in I was advised (in a wow, you're really an idiot kind of way) that our appointment was for 10:30am, so what I am doing there so early? Whatever, bitchy receptionist-- are you the same rude, obnoxious woman I spoke to when I made the appointment? What's wrong... does the doctor make you get her coffee and pick up her dry cleaning?

Anyway, she must have had a fleeting moment of, wait-- I should act nice. She let me know that we could take a seat and maybe be seen earlier (instead of leaving due to my premature arrival, as she had first recommended).

So we sat and waited... and I realized that I had not seen this many people over the age of 70 since leaving Florida. I had no idea that ophthalmologists drew such an elderly crowd-- or maybe it was just my lucky day.

There were a few toys in the waiting room and a little ride on BMW-- not sure what that was all about... trying to please the toddlers who have expensive taste? And while unsuccessfully trying to read my magazine, I keyed in on the routine they had going here. This pregnant sour looking woman would come out of an office, call a patient, take them in her office. When they emerged from her office, they were told to sit in the waiting room again. Finally, nicely dressed, but miserable looking-- presumably ophthalmologist woman, would come get the patient and bring them into office number two. When she was finished with them, it was off to bitchy, yet sporadically compassionate, receptionist lady to pay your bill.

Our turn had arrived. The visit to office numero uno was pretty unpleasant. The pregnant sour nurse woman did her best to make me feel like I was a total jackass for bringing a four year old in for a colorblind test. She advised that a) he's too young and may not understand what she asks him to do, and b) even if he has a problem, there's nothing you can do about it. Excellent way to create patient rapport. She surely should be fired.

Ok, she somehow determined that he probably had a problem with colors. And after our second round in the waiting room, it was our turn to see the miserable looking doctor-- hey, attitude in the workplace all starts at the top, right?

We get into her office, in which the walls are completely covered in children's artwork-- or possibly artwork from the senior center-- not sure, but either way it somehow added a touch of warmth to the place. Anyway- counterpoint to her sour nurse, she seemed to think this was a very important and necessary appointment. She took out two bottles and asked him what colors the caps were-- he answered correctly (red and green) and she stated her diagnosis, "Seems like there's no problem".

She then did all the other eye doctor type stuff-- and just as my husband had predicted the night before (and told me not to let them do), she was wanted to dilate his eyes. He's four... wtf?
I'm not sure if this is really necessary, but I just don't think so. She gave me the you're-making-a-big mistake-you-dumbass-American look... and I just gave her my best you-and-I-both-know-that's-unnecessary-and-you're-a-bitch look. You may be able to make your other patient's mommies feel like they're idiots for not getting the wacky drops, but I can feel like an idiot without any help from you.

Whatever... time to check out with bitchy receptionist, she'll be right with us-- she's got to get the doctor some coffee.


Notice Mr. Clever cannot look up from the crackberry.