I have a fear of the optometrist. Not an eww this is icky dislike. Not an oh poop this is going to take up my entire day kind of grumpiness. I have a full on loathing of all things eye doctor related.
I don’t have anything weird about eyes. If I get something in my eye, I can fish around on my eye ball for it like a champ. I don’t need contacts, but if I did, I think I could handle those, too.
I just hate the little poof poof machine. They trick you! “Look straight at the little house.” And then bam! Air in your eye. What the hell?! Why am I paying you to torture me?! And since I am terrified of the poof poof, they always have to do it at least three times. My little eyes know exactly what is coming, and they will not take it lying down. Or staying open, as the case may be. I grip the edge of my seat and try my hardest to keep my eyes open, but the ninja reflexes in my eye are stronger than my willpower and I blink! SO they do it again!
And then the evil dude in the white coat decides that “they really should dilate my eyes.” Yes, let’s please make my eyes really sensitive to light specifically so we can shine a really bright light in them. And then they don’t undilate your eyes. No one taught this optometrist to put his toys back when he was done. You have to try and survive for hours with those weird little 3D glasses-looking things, and you don’t even get to watch a movie. And God forbid you have to be on stage before your eyes manage to recover from the trauma this “Doctor” has inflicted upon them. Stage lights and dilated eyes just don’t mix.
I will take the dentist over the optometrist any day. At least the dentist is willing to admit he is about to cause you great pain. I appreciate honesty in any relationship.