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2005-10-12 - 10:10 a.m.

My eyes have gone kind of screwy. The right one is now such an arid wasteland that I can barely see out of it on occasion, and that�s meant to be my good eye! My left isn�t used to being the strong, focussed eye, and it doesn�t really know how to deal with it.

Anyway, my deterioration coincided with the latest visit to the specialists yesterday. It�s a different guy, so we have to start the whole thing from scratch � i.e. I tell him the whole sorry story, and then he does the same tests that the last three people have done, and then says, �Yes, you DO have really dry eyes�� Like he doesn�t believe the reports of the other specialists and has to see for himself.

We�re fast running out of options in the drops/ointment arena, so he suggests having my tear-ducts plugged. Now, call me sceptical, but the problem is that nothing is getting through my tear ducts, so plugging them would seem�I don�t know, weird? But no, apparently such a manoeuvre would mean that the pitiful amounts of moisture I DO produce would stay on my eyes longer, so anyway, the guy, who incidentally is about twelve years old, persuades me that this is the way to go. The way he tells it, my corneas will soon be swimming in huge cascading pools of liquid health.

I ask him if I have to go on a waiting list but he says he can do it there and then. I ask him if it will hurt, and he says �no more than scratching an itch�.

To be fair, that was true. Providing the itch in question was coming from a gaping, scabrous open wound and that you were using a scalding hot branding iron dipped in vinegar to scratch it.

I don�t know if you�ve ever had the pleasure of tear duct plugs, but if you haven�t, let me try and give you some sense of it. It�s a bit like having someone slowly tap needle-sharp splinters into the lining of your eye. I say �a bit like� � actually that�s what it is exactly, and without the benefit of any kind of anaesthetic.

After what seemed like five hours doing one in each eye, the optical Doogie Howser had already asked me twice if I was going to faint, It sounded very much like the sensible option, but I held it together (if nothing else, it does at least bring tears to your eyes). Thinking that was that, I sat back somewhat traumatised, but glad it was over. �Okay,� he said, �Now�just two more in each eye��

I left looking like someone had just sandpapered down my pupils, if you ever want an afternoon of excruciating pain, though, I can thoroughly recommend it. A day later, and call me Mr Picky here, I�m not really noticing the moisture-retaining promised land. If I�m going to have slivers of plastic inserted into my smallest orifices, I want some kind of pay-off. Is that really a lot to ask?

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