A Trip to the Cataract Surgeon (Thanks, Daddums!)

SB always wins the genetic lottery in the good old fam. Thanks to the Daddums, at the ripe old age of 43, SB has cataracts forming in BOTH eyes. I just got back from the eye surgeon, and my eyes are bad enough that insurance should pay for the surgery in BOTH eyes. But the motherfuckers only do one eye at a time, and they start with the worst one. So, in another month or so, I should have ONE semi-decent eye. This may alarm some of you currently driving in the tri-state area, and frankly, it should, but I do have the road between here and home fairly memorized as far as stop signs and shit go.

Also due to the genetic lottery (Did I forget to thank Daddums?), I have a familial history of detached retinas, so now I get to go to the retina doctor for a check BEFORE the goddamn cataract surgery can take place. Motherfuckers will dilate my fucking orbs AGAIN there. Great! [Of course my dumb ass waived the sun glass lenses they offered me to help me drive after today's appointment. I went careening down the roadway, back to work, tears streaming down my fucking face. Won't do that again. Passing motorists probably thought I was a damn afternoon drunk. I still can't see shit, so forgive any typos.]

As some of you may know, I don't like old people. They are smelly, and fuckers are always holding my fat busy ass up. Fuckers are pokey because they are retired and have all the time in the goddamn world. I know, I know--shame on me! Fuck you. I'm just being honest, and it's my blog, SO I WILL FUCKING WELL SAY WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT. Besides, you don't read me for my compassion, and you damn well know it. NEWSFLASH: I'm not Mother-fucking-Theresa or Princess Di, goddammit.

Anyhoo, I told the Moms my dislike of elders is why (besides the genetic lottery--thanks Daddums!), I have premature cataracts. God, or whatever, finds it hysterical that I have to go spend time in a waiting room with a whole bunch of geriatric motherhumpers.

Sure enough, just after I signed in with the receptionist, a busload of Maria Joseph Care Center pensioners rolled in. This one old bitch couldn't see dick OR HEAR. In fact, she said, "The only thing worse than my eyes is my hearing." Some good fucking Samaritan type wheeled her ass over NEXT TO ME. Thanks a fucking lot! I wanted TO DIE. I grabbed a magazine QUICK-like, lest the old bitch decide to strike up a conversation or some shit. I mean this bat COULD NOT HEAR AT FUCKING ALL, and her ass had a hearing aid!

Every time the poor receptionist called a name, the deaf old bag would shout something like, "WHAT? WHAT NAME DID YOU JUST CALL? I CAN'T HEAR YOU KNOW!" Jesus H. Christ. The poor receptionist tried to get it across to the old bat that it wasn't her that was called, but Deaf Bat couldn't even hear the receptionist assuring her it wasn't her or EVEN SEE the receptionist shaking her head NO IT IS NOT YOU at her. What would the fucking point be? I submit that to all of you compassionate fucking lot. What would the point in living be, if you can't fucking see OR hear? Maybe the old bag's taste buds are really honed, due to the loss of the other senses or some shit. Maybe the old whore lives to eat. Literally. I just can't see the damn point, myself.

A young man waiting with his grandfather looked over at me at one point, when all this shit was going down, and rolled his eyes and said, "I don't want to get old." We were both feeling THE FEAR. You KNOW what I'm talking about.

Most of the time, I dont worry, I just figure I'll get the family genes and build airplanes when I am 80 or something, like my Uncle Gene, or take up square dancing when I'm 90, like my Great Aunt Lela, but who the fuck knows? It's all a roulette, motherdickers. You takes your chances. Did I mention that the Daddums wears hearing aids? I could well wind up like the poor hapless irritating old bag in the waiting room. It could happen. Fortunately, I will likely also inherit a good variety of firearms, coming from the family that I do. [Everybody's all NRA and shit.]

Later in the appointment, they stuck the old blind/deaf bat two rooms down from me, and I heard the eye surgeon shout at her (with the damn door closed) that he'd see her in another two years, and I'm thinking--yeah, right. I'm sure that motherfucking eye surgeon was thinking, maybe I'll get a break, and the old bag will keel over before then, because what's the point in operating? Bitch can't see OR hear.

When my turn for the doc to examine me came, I flat out told that motherfucker that THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL I would do his job. Not for love or money. I told him that I have no patience with the damn elderly. However much money that motherfucker makes, IT AIN'T ENOUGH. He laughed. He really did. I meant that shit though.