Health Care is Heinous, Part Deux...or why I had a hard time with my eye and somehow connected it to the larger problems with the health care system

We last saw my eyelid bump causing a minor nuisance to my face and a large nuisance in my pocket. Those who have used steroidal eye drops know what I’m talking about when I say that the steroids part is no joke. Not like my eyes popped out of my head or I had a bulging problem for seven days. But I definitely felt like my eyes were shaking a little bit and my eyelashes got clumped up and seemed to be working overtime. And the bump stayed large and in charge.

The first time I went to the doctor’s office, there was this terribly sad, but in a strange way adorable, elderly couple with pink eye. They kept clucking to each other in that elderly couple-speak that is either entirely too low or way too loud...probably because they can't hear that well. I was touched by their constant clucking about what to do about their shared pink eye, until I became highly irritated and remembered how contagious they were. During my second trip there was no pink eye in the waiting room. This gave me time to think about what was going to happen during my appointment. I am a control freak, so I like to spend lots of time pointlessly mapping out what I expect to happen in any and every situation I’m about to face. In this instance I was expecting another prescription for real Tour de France steroidal eye drops—the kind that would get me kicked out of competitive eye sports.

When the doctor took a look with her tiny eyelid spatulas that don’t seem tiny because of their task—spreading your eyelids far apart from each other—she was disappointed. I always feel bad when doctors are disappointed in my body’s performance, and this was no exception. She sighed and said that unfortunately the bump, instead of completely healing, had left a sizable amount of scar tissue behind. In my eyelid, mind you. I could try an injection of the steroids straight into the bump. I guess when I had wished for Tour de France steroids, I hadn’t thought an injection would the way that eye steroids are taken to the next level. This is part of why my constant mapping out/control issues are a waste of time. Who can prepare for eyelid injections? My second option would be a referral to a plastic surgeon. I laughed and said that I couldn’t go to a plastic surgeon. I mean, the bump wasn’t that bad, right? I could live with the bump. The doctor got a little tetchy and said, “well, of course you don’t have to do anything—I assumed since you came here today you were frustrated with its persistence.” I agree, the bumps “persistence” was bothersome, but after all, today was my follow-up appointment. I always keep those. If I didn't, I would lose my “responsible” patient status.

I knew I was already dropping thirty bones on the visit, so I opted for the injection of Tour de France steroids in the eyelid. Possible side effects: eye turns black and blue (great, it was the day before Halloween!), almost definite possibility that a small area around the injection site will turn extremely pale (could I be any more pale than I already am? I dare you, steroids, to try to get my eyelid lighter than it already is). I always look away from needles. Not an option during eye injections. But I didn’t move at all, mainly because I managed to stop breathing. The doctor thought I did great—so still! She obviously doesn’t do much yoga.

I should have stopped going to the doctor for this non-issue of an eyelid bump. By the way, there’s a follow-up to the follow-up scheduled for next week. And this story obviously seems totally lame in comparison to the stories you hear all the time that really highlight why the system is truly so heinous. Folks with pre-existing conditions who can’t get health care, or my friends who are self-employed and can’t afford health insurance, or the stories that make the paper where lack of health care has resulted in serious bodily harm or even death. Or the stories I hear from doctors and other providers who are face down in the heinous system with their hands tied behind their backs. But I can be shallow here if I want to be. I’m not going to the plastic surgeon—shouldn’t I get points for that? I spend so much time worrying about how to make the system better that I always hope that when I have to use the system for such a tiny problem, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Instead I always write to my friend C, who is just about as full of rage about health care as I am (note comment to previous post). Or I get all meta with my friend E, and we talk about wellness and disease models or the ways we're taught to relate to our bodies.

I'm thinking that I'm going to just let the eyelid scar tissue be. The Tour de France steroids did nothing--they didn't even make my eyelid a whiter shade of pale. So I'll end this episode of health care system ranting until the next time I have a pointless problem, like a corn or a common cold.