Upon entering the ophthalmologist's office, I immediately walked to the receptionist's desk to check-in. I give my name and confirm my appointment time.

"Please make sure the information is correct."

I look over the paper, included is my name, address, phone number, and several facts about my existence. I look it over, and update the name of my physician, since my previous doctor retired) and hand the paper back to the receptionist.

"Please sign."

"Surely."

"You may take a seat."

I find a seat opposite a woman in a wheelchair, and her attendant, and what I assume is a family member, probably her son. I assume the woman is her attendant since she is dressed in scrubs.

Her son walked to the receptionist I just left and returned a few moments later.

"They said, it should only take a few more minutes," the woman's son explained.

The woman was an elderly lady, with thinning gray hair and a wrinkled face. She wore a blue geographic-print cotton top with a round neck and three-quarter sleeves with cotton/poly knit pants. The shirt was long enough to prevent me from seeing her pants had an elastic waist not requiring a zipper or buttons. She wore them with black loafers without any socks.

The woman nodded as if she understood.

A few minutes later, I heard the elderly woman ask, "How much longer?"

"They said it would be soon. Please be patient."

"I want to ask them myself." She braced her elbows against the rails of the wheelchair. But she couldn't get out of the chair. There was a restraint around her waist to keep her seated.

"No, Mom, don't try and get up. You may fall."

"What am I doing here?"

"I told you; they are going to check your eyes."

"My eyes? I can see."

"It's just a check-up."

"Mrs. Kerby!" one of the staff called out.

The elderly woman tried to get up again. At the same time, the son called out, "Over here!"

"Sit Mom, it's OK."

"Follow me."

The attendant positioned herself behind the wheelchair. Unlocked the wheels and pushed. The trio followed the staff.

I didn't know how long I would be waiting for the test the ophthalmologist wanted to perform. He was very thorough, and I usually sat for many tests while there. Between the tests and the eye dilation, I was usually in the office for three hours or more. The ophthalmologist always needed to see my retina, therefore there was always a dilatation done.

My name was called, and I followed the staff. I was given a visual acuity test and found that my vision hadn't changed. The right eye was 20/20. The left eye was not as good at 20/30. Not perfect, but I didn't need glasses. I was pleased with that. Then they put drops in my eye to test for glaucoma. Finally, they added more drops for the dilation.

I returned to the waiting room and took another seat. The old woman was back. Apparently, her eye exam was concluded. Her son was at the receptionist's desk, making a follow-up appointment.

I looked into the old woman's eyes. Her eyes were as dilated as mine was. Probably even more dilated since she started first. We locked eyes. I could see the pupils of her eyes were as big as saucers. I smiled for a second at the thought that my eyes probably looked like that too.