Here
we are again at the ophthalmologist’s office. If my grandmother is healthy
today, the doctor will schedule her right eye surgery for the next month.
The
doctor’s office is located in an unpleasant two-story building that looks more
like a prison than like a medical building. Long corridors without ventilation,
brown-painted walls, and a broken vending machine welcome herds of anxious
patients everyday. The ill-tempered office assistants don’t contribute much to
improve this depressing environment.
Each
floor has only one bathroom. And thanks to her urinary incontinence, my
grandmother needs to visit the ladies’ room frequently. The doctor’s office is
in a corner and the bathroom in the other, so she has to walk the long corridor
at her one-step-per-minute speed. In two hours, she has visited the toilet four
times, and counting.
One
hour and two more visits to the ladies’ room later, finally the doctor is
examining my grandmother. Her left eye is healing perfectly, and the doctor
schedules the right eye surgery for October 23rd. One medical appointment down,
a surgery and two more appointments to go, and we are done. Hurrah!