Kaleidoscope

No wildlife video today...I have been sleeping...and I am going back to sleep when I have finished my cup of tea.

I wanted to share what happened at the eye hospital yesterday and am interested in your thoughts.

It’s taken me a day to process everything from the eye hospital...it felt like such a bad experience, even compared to the other times I’ve faced deafness-related issues.

So, when I arrived, the receptionist couldn’t find me on the system. She sent me to another desk, and that receptionist also couldn’t find me. Eventually, they just told me to sit down. This wasn’t just me; they seemed to be doing the same with everyone, so I’m guessing their computer system was down.

The first person I saw got impatient with me very quickly. I explained I’m deaf, needed her to face me, and couldn’t manage if she added extra instructions mid-test when I couldn’t see her lips. Instead of listening, she snapped at me to "just get on with it."

By this point, my glasses were steaming up—probably from nerves and the pressure of her attitude. I took them off to clean them, but she got cross again and insisted I put them back on. I tried to explain that I couldn’t even see the eye chart with steamed-up glasses, but she wasn’t having it.

Her student came over to help but ended up knocking my cochlear processor off while pushing my glasses back on. Suddenly, I couldn’t hear a thing. As I was trying to reattach the processor’s magnet to my head, the student disconnected it again while still trying to fit my glasses. It was chaos...

I started explaining that it’s not a hearing aid and that the processor must stay connected. Otherwise, I’d need to use my phone to reset the settings. The nurse didn’t seem to care and got even more frustrated. When I finally took out my phone to fix it, she snapped at me for "using my mobile." I tried explaining it’s my remote control for the processor, but she didn’t listen and treated me like I was a nuisance.

When I finally got it reconnected, my glasses steamed up again! I took them off to clean them, and the nurse just lost patience completely, barking at me to "get on with it." By now, I was flustered and stressed, but I somehow managed to finish the test.

The next person I saw wasn’t much better. They showed no understanding of my deafness or cochlear implant, even though I wore my badge stating I’m deaf and lip-read. I also had my hair tied up to make the processor and magnet obvious. I felt like I was wasting their time when, in reality, just a tiny bit of understanding would’ve meant I’d take no longer than a hearing person.

I’ve been going to this hospital for 25 years, and I’ve never experienced such extreme deafness discrimination.

Later, someone else told me I have a cataract in one eye, which I’d suspected. I then saw two ophthalmologists, who confirmed it and discussed an operation. They seemed kind enough but disappeared to consult the main specialist. When the specialist entered, he looked very angry and spoke to me quickly and sharply.

I explained I couldn’t lip-read him at that speed and needed him to slow down. He didn’t care and just repeated himself. I caught some of the words—"it’s very simple"—but couldn’t make out what he was saying. When I finally recognized the words "eye drops," I said, "Yes, I use eye drops."

Out of nowhere, he snapped, "You’re discharged," like he was expelling me! Then he stormed out of the room.

The two ophthalmologists were clearly intimidated—they shrank into their chairs while he spoke and later told me he’s like that with them too. They reassured me that the cataract operation would still go ahead and that the discharge was only from the clinic for my original issue.

Thankfully, the next doctor I saw was much better. He moved the machinery aside when he needed to speak so I could lip-read, which only took a few extra seconds. It was such a relief to feel understood.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for a pre-op assessment, so I’ll have to go back in January for that. But at least they measured me for the lens.

By the end, I was completely exhausted—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

What do you think? Am I overreacting? Should I say something formally, or just let it go?

Thanks for reading all this—it’s been a lot for me to process...

Take care.

Hopefully my normal service will be resumed tomorrow...

I do not feel creative today so this kaleidoscope is of some silk flowers I've had for years in the front room..