Et tu, somes?

Not sure how I forgot to post this, but last Friday, I went to local TLC Laser Eye Center and practically got laughed out of the office. Their multi-million dollar machinery couldn’t even diagnose my prescription because it was too high. You’d think if a company manufactured something worth several million dollars, they’d go for broke and design the thing to recognize some patently absurd level seen only in Mr. Magoo or possibly a blind mole rat. I mean, I only have about -13 diopters of myopia and another -3.5 diopters of astigmatism.

But to be fair, the doctor admitted they have corrected people with prescriptions as high as mine, but those people always had complications. I applaud his honesty, but weep for–but not with–my shitty eyes.

This weekend, I dropped in on the ACHA and Valve Replacement folks, who had an impromptu get-together coordinated by Cort. We talked about random stuff, Carol waxed for a while on her four surgeries, and we ate ironically unhealthy food. What got me about Carol is that she has almost the same defects as I do, and she had her first surgery two years before I had mine, and has worn a pacemaker most of her life. I’m starting to think I used up all of my exceptional luck way back, and am now relegated to merely human levels of fortune.

On that note, I’ve been a patient at the University of Chicago for a couple years now, but have long despaired at their lack of a department focused specifically on adult congenital heart defects. Most specialists in the area work with children, and other cardiologists are more concerned with cardiovascular disease usually seen in the Old Country Buffet generation. For those of us caught in between, there’s a veritable dearth of doctors. But Carol mentioned she used to be a patient at Northwestern, and I managed to secure an appointment with Dr. Mendelson, who founded and heads the ACHD department. I was also assured they have an ACHD echocardiogram technician, so hopefully those won’t take one billionty years anymore.

If everything goes well, I may transfer everything over to the new hospital. I may or may not be an anomaly in that I’m healthy with such a complicated defect, but I’ll keep up with it just to make sure. There are worse fates.

Until Tomorrow