Feeling naked at the doctor

The doctor I dislike the least is the eye doctor. I would rather go to the eye doctor than any other doctor (okay, except for Hubs). This seems odd considering they get closest to my face and thus can smell my breath and see the imperfections in my skin that I attempt to hide. This also seems odd since they blow puffs of air in my eyes, which I dislike. But the main reason it seems odd, is the extreme vulnerability I feel for 90% of the appointment.

As a contact lens wearer, they make me take our my lenses shortly after arriving. Which means for most of the appointment, I can see no faces, I can read nothing, and I can distinguish only large, familiar objects.

I feel naked without my contacts. Therefore, I feel extremely vulnerable.

I find it is hard to have conversations when I can't see faces. Where should I look? Am I looking at their nose? Their lips? Their chin? I have no clue.

Today, I made it safely into the exam room without feeling too awkward, and then someone walked in to talk to me.

Please ears, work hard for me to distinguish who this is. The man stands about 15 feet away from me and begins friendly conversation. To my relief, he had seen me at Starbucks that morning and immediately I knew it was the other doctor (the one I was not seeing) talking to me. I also remembered that I went to school with his son, which had to be why he recognized me.

(By the way, I seem to feel like I have changed drastically in my appearance since high school, but people seem to recognize me easily. Maybe I just wish I have changed drastically...)

I notice the blur of magazines in the exam room. Humpf. Like I can actually read them. Really, there was nothing to do for about 10 minutes while I sat in a dark room in partial blindness.

When the doctor did walk in, he could have been a murderer coming to slit my throat. There I was sitting as vulnerable as could be. How would I defend myself? I wouldn't be able to grab anything; I can't see a thing. With the use of my natural eyes, I would never be able to tell a difference.

But, it wasn't a murder; it was my favorite eye doctor in the whole world. Who, by the way, looks older than the last time I saw him 5 years ago (I was able to see him clearly when he put the machine in front of my eyes). After a short exam, he gave me my lenses back, which I frantically put back into my eyes, and I was once again granted the gift of sight.