Bad Patient, Bad Wife

I am a bad wife.

Optometry students have three components to their program: coursework, lab work, and clinic. The bulk of my hubby's time right now is being spent in coursework and lab work, but he will start in the clinic this summer. One week after my due date. We like to cram all of our major life transitions into small periods of time. Much more exciting that way!

In the mean time, the students spend hours on end in the lab, practicing all of the techniques that they will eventually use in the clinic and in their own practices. This requires actual people on which to practice. In the lab, they practice everything on each other. From testing to contact lenses to injections, they do almost everything on other students before doing it on an actual patient.

BUT, they can also bring their friends and family members up to the lab for practice sessions after-hours. And this, my friends, is why I am a big fat failure.

From day one of optometry school, I have proved to be the worst patient ever. Even when Jonathan had the most simple of tasks to test out on me at home, I would sit there squirming, blinking, dodging, and whining until he finally gave up on me. He learned pretty quickly that I was a waste of his time, unless of course his assignment was to practice performing optometry on small children with hyperactivity disorders, the mentally ill, or frantic injured animals.

This morning, he mentioned his upcoming lab practical that was going to require some practice...

"Actually, it would have been something you could have helped me with, but it is probably better that you pass..."

"Why?" I said, "Maybe I could handle it this time!"

"Well...first, I would numb your eye. Then, I would insert a lense that suctions on to your eye. And then...."

And it was all over for me. No siree. Not gonna happen.

That was just about as bad as last week's assigment: inserting tiny plugs into that little bitty dot on the inner corner of your lower eye lid.

Sick.

Is it terrible that my husband's occupation of choice totally gives me the willies? Makes me want to scratch out my own eyeballs?

I know. It is terrible. I'm a bad optometrist's wife.

But I'll tell you one thing I'm good at: every good-looking young optometrist needs to be equipped to handle the uncomfortable situation in which a female patient attacks him with a passionate kiss in the middle of an eye exam.

I'll have you know that my Doc is well prepared for that scenerio, and they don't teach that one in lab! ;)