Look into my Eyes. No, Don't.

Last week I finally made an eye doctor appointment. For the last six months or so, it's been a strain to stare at the computer all day (hello adult life, I hate you). I was actually sort of looking forward to the appointment and the chance to not only improve my vision but get some hip new reading glasses.

The appointment started off fine -- nice lady asking me questions about whether I can see or not. Then, I read some letters off a screen. This was interesting because I realized, while trying desperately to decipher an "E" from an "F," that this really felt like a test on which I would be judged. I'm not sure why but I felt a lot of pressure to get the "correct" answer. Yes, I'm neurotic but this wasn't even the bad part.

The bad part came when the doctor squeezed a numbing solution into my eyes, put my chin on the rest that's attached to a large machine and positioned herself 6 inches in front of me. As she started burning my pupils with her miniature ultra-bright flash light, I started to feel queasy. This is not uncommon for me in a doctor's office, in fact it happens quite often that I get so nauseous and ill that I nearly faint. Today was no exception.

Usually I can see it coming. For instance, I know I will likely crash and burn when at the gynecologist or giving blood but the freakin eye doctor?

The symptoms come on slowly and then boom! My vision gets blurry, my ears start ringing, my hands start shaking and I start sweating profusely. Usually embarrassed by my condition, I often wait until I'm too far in to say something to the doctor. When I finally admitted to the eye doctor today that I didn't feel so good, I really thought I was gonna wipe out. She was very kind and actually said that many people have this reaction at the eye doctor. She wasn't the first to tell me that I had a vagovasel reaction (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vasovagal_syncope).

It's rather unpleasant and apparentlty it's almost all psychological. The thing is I'm not concious of the fact that I'm getting skeeved out by the doctor and whatever it is he/she is doing but apparently I'm getting myself all worked up. It all started in the summer of 2003 when I had a hernia repaired. They stuck that IV in my hand and I had some freaky sorta seizure thing -- waking up to my mom frantically screaming in my face. Not sure which was more traumatic, her yelping or the needle under my skin. Anyways, ever since then, I get barfy at the doctor's office.

I think I need hypnosis to rid me of this disorder.