Lose The Attitude, Lady

Lose The Attitude, Lady

By

Leo de Natale

Illustrations by Vince Giovannucci

“We’ve been waiting for 30 minutes, Doctor,” said Cindy Thornton, a forty-ish mother whose teenage son Timothy “Timmy” Thornton was in tow. “I’m really pressed for time and Timmy needs to be fitted to contact lenses and I want him fitted today.”

These were the first words uttered to semi-retired optometrist Dr. James Devine who worked part time at SeeMore, an optical chain known for bargain eyeglass and contact lens pricing. This woman was figuratively tapping her foot with the inconvenient delay.

Oh, I can see where this is going Devine thought as he ushered mother and son into the examination room. It’s fasten your seat belts because I’ve encountered many Cindy Thorntons during my forty years in this profession.

Cindy was fit, tall, tan and wore very short, ripped jeans that exposed bare thigh. She also sported a small, newly inked rose ankle tattoo. Devine mused, oh, this is another one of those middle-aged millennials who is battling Father Time.

She had fashionably cut long dirty blond hair and fingernails with exotic, multi-color polish. Her pushed-in face was pouty and projected sternness accentuated with thin lips. Her body language suggested confrontation.

Cindy said Timmy was thirteen and wanted contact lenses for sports. He was a scrawny but tallish kid lacking a personality and Devine was sure Timmy’s enthusiasm didn’t match his mother’s. The boy’s body language reflected his diffidence.

“I’m sorry for the delay, Cindy, but the previous patient arrived late,” he said. “That always delays the schedule. I apologize.”

“Well, like I said, we were supposed to have been seen thirty minutes ago and I don’t have much time,” she repeated.

“Well, I’ll be as quick as I can,” he replied.

“Oh, no, I don’t want this to be a rush-job,” she snapped. “I want a thorough exam.”

Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be, Devine thought. Increased waiting time had transcended all health care professions. It’s not unusual for patients to cool their heels at medical offices. It’s become part of the landscape. Get used to it, Cindy.

Timmy was a new patient to the office. A thorough case history was required and various tests – color vision, depth perception, and ocular measurements were required. Devine could normally perform a routine eye examination in about twenty minutes. Timmy had become more nearsighted and required a prescription change. The medical part of the examination involved ophthalmoscopy (looking into eye and retina) and inspecting the eyelids and cornea with a microscope. He already knew there’d be a problem because Timmy was light sensitive and didn’t like Devine’s rubber-gloved fingers manipulating his eyelids. He had the phobic reaction of squeezing his eyes shut. Eye people refer to this as the “menace reflex”. It makes for tough going when trying to insert contact lenses. This did not bode well for wearing contact lenses.

Devine explained his findings and told Cindy Timmy was nearsighted and had astigmatism in both eyes and would require a specialty soft contact lens. He suggested daily disposable lenses, commonly referred to as “dailies” that were gaining popularity. Discarding contacts every day reduced potential infections and were healthier for eyes.

“So, would you like me fitting Timmy to the dailies?” he asked?

“Yes, I wear the same thing,” she explained. “So can we start now?”

“Well you’re running behind schedule and this may take some time,” Devine responded. “We can always do this another time if it’s inconvenient now.”
“Look, Doctor Devine, we made an appointment for a contact lens fitting today!”, she repeated with an aggressive tone. “I don’t want to have to come back here for a separate appointment.”

          “Okay, I’ll select some trial contact lens,” he said, his Irish temper silently rising. “Just one moment.”

          This woman is a problem, he said to himself.  Demanding, imperious, entitled.  Keep your cool, James. Don’t let this thing escalate.

Doctor, patient and mother segued into a contact lens fitting room. Devine selected the appropriate samples. The lenses were packaged in blister packs. After washing his hands and eschewing rubber gloves, Devine attempted to insert the right eye contact lens. He’d been fitting contact lenses using the same technique throughout his career. As he anticipated, the kid was squirmy, tried closing his eyes shut despite Devine’s pulling on the upper and lower eyelids. It was like prying open a bivalve. In most offices, optometrists selected the lenses and technicians performed the instructions. This was a low budget office. The optometrist did it all. Devine was earning a generous per diem and gladly suffered the indignity.

          Timmy showed incredible resistance and the Mom jumped in.

          “You’re being too rough with him  and you’re scaring him,” she yelled. “I’ve never seen this before.”

“Ms. Thornton, many patients behave this way,” he replied in a calm voice. “It’s important to get the lens inside the eye. I have to make sure the lens fits properly and provides good vision.”

          After numerous attempts, Devine finally inserted the right lens.  The last straw arrived.

          “Mommy, my eye hurts, take this thing out!”, he waled.  Obligingly, Devine quickly removed the lens and wanted to continue.

“Stop it! I’ve had enough,” she yelled. “ You’re far too rough with my son. I’ve had it! He’s being traumatized. I’ll have you to blame if he is so scared he’ll never be able to wear contacts! I want his new eyeglass prescription.”

          Leaving mother and son in the fitting room, Devine returned to his office and handed Cindy the document.

“I’m leaving right now,” she said after grabbing the document.

Devine was aghast. In his long career as an optometrist, he’d never experienced such an antagonistic, truculent encounter. Oh, I know what’s coming, he thought. She’ll file a scathing complaint with SeeMore’s corporate consumer relations and say I was rude, uncaring and disrespectful.

He was steaming because he had been required to manifest incredible restraint. You have to remain professional. Most of the time, it was easy but the Cindy Thorntons of the world make it quite difficult.

“What’s going on, Doc?”, Penny, the store’s manager, asked after Cindy stormed out the office door. She was some kind of mad.”

Devine began to elucidate the imbroglio but could tell Penny would probably presume the doctor was at fault. That happens in corporate health care. Devine disliked this display of Penny’s pusillanimity but had seen it many times before. He’d probably be hearing from the SeeMore’s corporate office and have his knuckles rapped. He was unfazed. Over his career he’d become the consummate professional. He enjoyed a good reputation and was always being recruited by optical chains. Competent, experienced optometrists were becoming difficult to find.

Devine returned to the examination room and saw his next patient. A lunch break followed. He entered the contact lens fitting room and was tidying the area by removing used paper towels and facial tissue. He looked at the fitting table and noticed the sample contact lens boxes were missing. He returned to the examination room and searched for the lenses. Nothing there. Returning to the fitting table, he again glanced around the room. Nothing.

Hmm, it appeared Cindy Thornton had helped herself to those lenses. Where else could they be? In her pocketbook perhaps? It also turned out she stormed from the office, displayed her anger to Penny and left without paying for the examination. Devine smiled. Cindy scammed a free examination and not only was Cindy a bitch, she was a petty thief, too. And for stolen contact lens samples that couldn’t be used. He made sure that would be reported to the corporate regional offices. He smiled again.