If You Could See Him through My Eyes
#47 of Hockey Hunk Season 5
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Hello, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk! It's Monday again, and I've got a 4,000-word chapter for you today, because I had an extra amount of fun while writing it, so...well...there's more of it than usual, and I like it! I do hope to hear your comments on it, too, because your feedback is ever so valuable, and do also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
I extend my special thanks to Hammerfist who was kind enough to consult me on some aspects of this chapter. Cheers, dude, you added to the realism! :P
Have a nice read!
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"Think it'll be long yet?" he muttered.
I looked at Marker, sitting there somewhat hunched on the plastic chair next to me. He was dressed in a blue hoodie and jeans and was definitely trying to avoid any attention to him. It hadn't started well for him, anyway, what's with a mother and two kids meeting us right at the door, but now, sitting there some way to the side, he seemed a bit more comfortable. He did keep glancing from underneath his hoodie to make sure nobody was staring, which wasn't a good sign. Then again, coming to the mall was a challenge for him to begin with, but there we were, sitting and waiting to get his eyes checked.
It'd started with him complaining about it in the support group, and Sergeant Simpson had told him that maybe he ought to see a specialist about it. We'd phoned Veteran's Affairs and they told Marker that there was a place on the Stepford Center that had a contract with VA, which meant that he could get it done for free, which is really great when you're on food stamps. That only left the issue of getting Marker to go to a place so crowded with furs, and in broad daylight, too. He wasn't too happy about this, but at least I didn't have too much to do today, I might as well haul my ass off the couch and air myself, too, and help out a buddy.
"I don't think so," I said, "the appointment was for 12:30 and we were told to be here half an hour before that so that they can process the papers. And it's 12:35 now."
There'd been a shitload of that, too, but at least we were done with that for now.
"Think they're usually late?" he asked.
"I don't know, dude," I rumbled. "It seems pretty busy."
That was probably a fact he loathed, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
Like, say, what was waiting for me on Friday.
"Yeah," Marker said.
Shit...how the hell did I agree to it?
"Marker Jones?"
One of the doors nearby had opened and a wolf had stepped out, wearing a kind of a nurse's uniform and holding a clipboard.
"That's your turn, buddy," I told the wolf, "Let's go!"
I urged him on and got up myself, grabbing my crutch while following the hunched wolf and the perky lady wolf into the room.
"I'm with him," I told her at the door, "I hope you don't mind if I join in?"
"Of course not," the wolf replied with a small smile, "there's a stool over there for family or friends."
It was a dimly lit room, of the kind I hadn't ever visited, because I never needed glasses or anything, and whatever vision testing I had had done on me, it had been done usually in some kind of a stuffy army base or a clinic where they just made you stand there with your paw covering one eye while reading out from that funny board on the wall. I couldn't see that board here, but there was a ton of other stuff, including a desk, a chair a bit like that at the dentist's, with equipment attached to it, and there were cabinets and boxes and a big poster on the wall that was some kind of a cross-section drawing of an eye, with what looked like hundreds of different parts labeled on it.
"The doctor will be here in just a moment, " the wolf said, "I'm May, hello."
She offered a paw, and we took turns shaking it, Marker muttering his name and I trying to sound more perky, and giving her a more thorough salute, and squeezing her paw.
"Now, Marker, if you'd just sit here, and you, Mister Michaels, you can sit on that stool, I hope it's comfortable for you!"
I glanced at the stainless steel seat and decided that it couldn't be too bad.
"Sure," I set my ass down and watched how the wolf maneuvered my nervous buddy onto the exam chair, my crutch held against my knees.
"I'll just do a quick check..." the wolf spoke before she stepped over to the strange contraption hanging off a kind of a mobile arm from the ceiling, one with lots of lenses and switches and handles and all sorts of scifi-looking things.
She was just at it when the door opened again, and with a whiff of coffee, and what smelled like corned beef, someone entered the dark room.
"Good day!" that someone said, stepping closer, and then he entered a cone of light coming of a dim lamp in the ceiling, and I saw that it was a tiger, rather tall, and wearing a ridiculous white coat that had big smiling cartoon crocodiles printed on it.
"We're all set," the wolf assistant said, "papers are here, doc. This is Marker Jones."
"Thanks, May," the tiger smiled before turning over towards Marker and extending his paw, "Hello, mister Jones!"
I could see Marker give the guy a dubious look, but took his paw, anyway.
"I'm Patrick Crane, I am a partner and an optometrist here at Ashley Eye Care Center," the tiger explained while they shook paws, "Excuse my clothes, I had a child patient before you and then I went for lunch at the staff room and I just grabbed it on when I came back to see you."
"It's okay..." Marker mumbled.
Then the tiger turned to me, and smiled again, and put out his paw.
"And a friend?"
"Tate Michaels," I offered my paw, which he squeezed in his big, warm paw, much bigger than mine. "My buddy didn't want to come alone."
"Well that's very good of you!" the tiger spoke pleasantly. "We do encourage anyone feeling nervous to come with a friend, it is absolutely not a problem at all. It's not like we're as scary as the dentist, anyway."
"That's good," I mused.
The tiger settled onto a chair on wheels that looked like it was shaped like a saddle, so that he was kinda sitting funny on it, but I had seen chairs like that before, and I heard they were extra good for your back, so maybe he, having to sit a lot, took no chances. He kicked the chair over to the desk and turned on a small work light over it so that he could go through the papers the now gone wolf had left there.
"Marker Jones..." the tiger rumbled, "and your primary complaint is that you have been getting headaches, and sometimes your eyes hurt...and you think it might be because of eyesight?"
"Well, I told about it to someone who told me to get my eyes checked," Marker replied.
"Quite right!" the tiger said. "That's what we are here for. And I see there's a Veteran's Affairs slip here, too...indeed...yes...I think we should do a full work-up to see what's going on, and then we can see if we need to do anything about it, if there is anything to be found.
He picked up a slim, black item from the desk and then rotated his chair and pushed himself over so that he was facing Marker, whom was looking back to him nervously.
"Now," the tiger, himself wearing glasses, too, smiled and looked at the wolf sitting in front of him, "now I need to go a bit higher..."
He adjusted a lever on the base of the chair and the seat came up on a spring a bit, the tiger's tail flicking about while he made himself comfortable again.
"Yes, this is good...we get patients of many different sizes, heheh," the tiger smiled. "Now, Marker, nothing I do here will be painful or cause any particular discomfort, so you have nothing to worry about. You seem a little bit tense, but that is understandable. This can be a new situation."
Marker's ears flattened a bit, and he grimaced a little, but I knew that he was resolved to go through with this.
"I just...don't like crowds," he whispered.
"Well it's just the three of us here," the tiger replied, "and I think we're quite fine here. Now, I think you should lower that hood first, so that I can see your eyes properly, and we can start with you simply looking at me, just at my nosepad, if you like."
Marker hesitated for a few seconds before he pulled the hood down with his good paw, revealing his muzzle and the injuries along its side. To the tiger guy's credit, he didn't flinch at the sight that still sometimes made me flinch, when I wasn't careful, or thinking about it. Or thinking too much.
"Good...good...I can't see any gross disturbances...eyes are clear and the pupils are equal and straight...have you had any visual disturbances at all? Any double vision, or flashes, or floating spots in your eyes or strange lines, or has it seemed that some part of the field of vision seems brighter or dimmer than the other?"
"I don't think so," Marker replied, "it's just that I get these headaches."
"I'm going to point this light at your eyes now, and I want you to look at that red dot painted on the wall over there..." he lifted a paw and pointed it towards the said landmark on the otherwise bare back wall, "and I'll point this light at your eyes, and I'll check your pupils, alright?"
"Okay."
The tiger lifted his magic wand and a bright yellow light flashed on at the tip, which he then pointed at Marker's eyes, each in turn, and then waved it in front of them, too, before he seemed to be happy with the results, and put the lamp away.
"Everything looks alright there. No indications of any problems there. Now, next I'll have you cover one eye at a time with your paw, and I'll be waving my fingers, and you should tell me when you see them, and when you don't, alright?"
"Okay."
"You can start by covering your right eye."
From the onlooker's point of view, it kinda looked funny, that big tiger sitting there and just wriggling his fingers, while Marker paid careful attention to it. Then the tiger took out a small stick with a red dot on it, and he waved that around, too, telling Marker to tell him when it could be seen or not seen.
"Alright, no visual field problems either," the tiger said, "that means that you haven't lost any of your field of vision, at least in the basic examination. Next, I'm going to be using this small paddle-looking thing..."
He lifted one out, and it was black, plastic, and looked like a small fly swatter, or something.
"Now, I want you to look with your both eyes at the dot again, alright?" the tiger said. "I'm going to cover one of your eyes with this at some point, and I'll be looking at your eyes. Just keep looking at the dot."
"Okay."
The tiger waved his paddle, and made some nodding after he'd surprised Marker a couple of times by covering each of his eye in turn.
"No problems with binocular vision, either, it appears," the tiger said as he put his paddle away and waddled in front of Marker again," alright, next we'll be simply testing your vision unaided. I'm going to put out the chart onto the wall, and I'll be asking you to read out letters."
"Sure," Marker said, sounding a bit less nervous now, which was fine, I guess.
The tiger hit some kind of a switch on his desk and those familiar rows of letters appeared there, projected onto the white wall.
"Alright, ho w about you try to third row first?"
"T...O...F..."
"Good! Try the fifth one!"
"P...E...C...F...D..."
"Excellent! Can you see all of them on the sixth row, you think?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Give me the seventh row then, please."
"F...E...L...O...P...Z...D..."
"Good! Now, how about the next one?"
Even I could see that Marker was squinting now.
"Uh..D...E...E...P...or...is that an F...O...T..."
"Now, you're having a bit of trouble there," the tiger said, making some notes on his papers, "I think you might have slightly reduced vision...you tested 20 slash 25, which is very good vision, but not quite perfect. Let's try something else next. I've got this card here with some text on it, and I'm going to hold it right in front of you, and I want you to read it out, if you can."
And he did, and Marker did some more squinting, as he was told to read the text on the card with each eye in turn, and then together.
"Hmmm...you struggled a bit with the top line, so it appears that you might be a little bit farsighted," the tiger stated, rubbing his muzzle, "that means that you have difficulty seeing something that is close to your eyes."
"But I guess I can see pretty well, though?" Marker asked. "It's just that reading makes my eyes hurt, I guess."
"Well, that's called accommodation," the tiger said, "there are these tiny muscles around the eye that change the shape of your eye ball, based on how far the thing you want to look at is located, and if you are farsighted, then the muscles try to work extra hard to make the texts more clear, for example, and that can lead to eye strain and headaches, too."
"Oh..." Marker rumbled.
"Maybe that's it, then," I said.
"It could be," the tiger smiled. "Now, next I'm going to put some drops in your eyes to make it easier for me to look inside your eye with this special microscope here..."
He patted another strange-looking piece of equipment standing by the chair.
"It will feel a bit weird, but only for a second."
"I've had eye drops before," Marker replied.
"Then this will be more than familiar," the tiger replied. "Your medical record indicates that you are not taking any drugs that might interfere with the drops, so we can just go ahead."
Marker was brave about it, too, which was good, once he was done blinking a lot, and saying it felt quite odd.
"Your eyes will be very sensitive to light and you will have blurred vision for a few hours afterwards," the tiger explained from his seat again, "Is it still sunny outside?"
"Very," I said.
"Then you would be most comfortable with sunglasses. Do you have some?"
"I brought them with me, they told that on the phone that you might need to do something to my eyes that makes them sensitive to light," Marker replied, patting the bulge of the sunglasses in his hoodie pocket."
"Well, then," the tiger rumbled," that's excellent. Now that we're waiting for the drops to take effect, how about I do a little bit of an examination of your eyes and eyelids, and then I'll set up the slit lamp while we're waiting. I'm going to come close to you and touch your face and your muzzle, is that alright?"
I could tell that Marker didn't like the idea...he got tense...his tail did...ears...the corner of his muzzle. The tiger saw it, too. He seemed to have an...hah...eye for it. Maybe it was because he had to work with a lot of kids. He just sat there, with his paws on his lap.
"I won't touch anywhere you don't want me to, Mister Jones," he said, "I will just touch lightly around your eyes, and then I will briefly touch your muzzle, because I have to make a quick measurement of it for the device."
"Uh...okay then."
"Now, I'll just lean a bit closer...and you can just keep looking at me...or your friend..." the tiger murmured soothingly while he put his fingertips against the corners of his eyes. "And the records didn't indicate that your eyes were harmed in...whatever caused your injuries...is that right?"
"I was wearing goggles," Marker grumbled.
"Very good...very good..." the tiger mused, "and there was no cranial nerve damage?"
"None that I know of," Marker replied, "the doctors make me do faces a lot whenever I see them about...about myself."
"Yes, that is good, it's how they test for the nerves inside your face and your head," the tiger said, "the eye is remarkably complex in that regard, too. Needs a lot of nerves to keep the eyes pointed where you want them to be, and to keep the vision sharp."
Marker blinked, and didn't say anything in response.
"But I can see that there's nothing overt visible, so that s very fine, no sign of injuries. Good! Then...I'll just..."
The tiger extended his fingers and did some sort of strange measuring with them, about Marker's muzzle and chin, before he kicked himself over to the big device which he pulled on some wheels and in front of Marker.
"I'll just have to adjust this a bit," he explaining, touching some buttons that caused the whole thing to have lights come up on it, and there was a lit panel on the side of it, too, a touchscreen, which he then started to tap. The device began to buzz, and whirr, and I saw that some parts of it were moving.
"This is a marvel," the tiger smiled, still doing some tapping on the controls, "back when I started in optometry, in school we had these huge old slit lamps, with manual wheels and levers you had to roll and pull and you had to use a slide rule to measure the size of someone's muzzle and the distance between the eyes and the optics. It looked like it'd been taken from the bridge of an old submarine or something, so many controls, we were always getting confused about it."
He chuckled a bit, and I laughed politely a bit, too, watching him do his thing with the quick efficiency of someone who had done it a hundred times.
"But now, I just input the rough estimates from just checking you out with my fingers, and this robot here adjusts itself," the tiger explained, sounding kinda excited about his big motorized toy. "How cool is that?"
"I guess it's cool," Marker replied, sounding a bit curious himself.
"It better be, I paid it," the tiger winked, "I insisted. And now everyone is jealous of it."
I suppose I'd be, if I had a hand-cranked one while his beeped and had cool buttons and lasers instead.
"I'll have to add some more drops now, I think," the tiger said, "get the maximum effect for the dilation."
After that it was quiet for a few minutes...the tiger doing some paperwork on the desk, Marker getting used to the weird sensation of his eyes being meddled with chemicals...and I sat there in the dark, watching the vague motion of the tiger's tail looping behind him while he worked at the desk. It was quiet...
...and while I'd been trying to appear calm and friendly for Marker's sake, because he needed that a lot today, I was really...and excuse the term, because I've done it, too, and I ain't proud of it, but I felt like I was shitting my pants.
How the hell had Cobb managed to convince me that it would be a good idea to come to another dinner party with him and Victor?
And with others?
_ _
Oh damn...I'd almost not answered the phone call, coming last week, with the Doberman once again telling me how he was sorry about everything and bla bla bla, and he'd got my hackles raised again, because why the hell should he keep rambling these pitying things at me? I supplied just enough of my own, I didn't need COBB of all furs to join in.
It was ironic, and painful, too.
But he'd pressed on, and hadn't let me hang up, and then he'd started talking about a "small dinner party for you and me and Victor and a few of our friends" and it'd been...intense, to say the least, listening to Cobb tell how he wanted me to meet some "nice furs like you", and then he'd gotten really silent when I asked "like what?" and he'd spluttered about "...well, in need of new friends, of course!" and I'd just wanted to bury my muzzle in my paws. He just wouldn't stop...wouldn't give me a break...and...
"...ONLY A FEW SELECT FRIENDS, JUST ME AND VICTOR AND HIS BOYFRIEND RORY AND RORY HAS THIS REALLY HANDSOME YOUNG FRIEND PETER..."
_ _
Really? So now he was trying to get me a date or a hook-up to make sure I wouldn't attack his ass or something.
Really...good Lord. It'd been a pain to go there in the first place because I was so nervous about seeing him...them, after such a long time, and now, he wanted me to go back, and this time there would be strangers, too, including...and I was sure he'd said that Victor had a boyfriend, so...I was going to meet the boyfriend of the Doberman I'd never thought to be gay...the twin brother of the Doberman I had...watched...and...
Life was confusing.
"...and there'll be food and music and I'll make sure everyone has a good time!"
_ _
Shame that Cobb didn't have the same idea about a good time as I probably had when it came to him, but there was nothing I could do about that, which meant that...that...
...that a small foolish part of me, the one that still got a stir from even thinking about me, eventually forced me to accept the invitation, for Friday this week. That was only the day after tomorrow...
Shit. I shouldn't have agreed. It was probably going to be really super embarrassing, with Cobb acting weirded out, and Victor...well...he probably wouldn't be amused about the presence of the guy who called him faggot while we were at school, and now...
...look who was a fag now...and look who had a boyfriend while someone else only had an agoraphobic roommate and a walking stick and a paw for pulling my pud while he had all sorts of fag fun with...what was the name? Rory? Something like that. Rob, maybe. Or Rene, maybe. Possibly a fruity name. It was impossible to imagine what kind of a man Victor would go for, anyway. Maybe some little thing who wore perfume...or some kind of a jock type...big and burly and stinking of testosterone, and possibly wearing a sleeveless T-shirt while chugging down beer. Maybe he was into daddies...maybe it was some fifty-something guy, with graying fur...or..
Or maybe I just shouldn't speculate. Maybe he was a nice, regular guy, like I'd expect someone like Victor to like. He'd seemed so all around decent that he was almost boring during our meeting, brief as it was before my bowels decided to evacuate themselves and I really didn't feel like staying in as a guest who spent all his time sitting on the goddamn can. I better take everything I got in my drug reserve this time...fortify myself for things to come.
"I think we're ready," the tiger said, coming back to life and bringing me into this room again, too "I'll just have a quick look and test with the pen to see...and this will seem a little bit bright, but it won't be too uncomfortable...and then we're going to be looking inside your eye. Did you know that the eye is the only organ one can see from the outside of the body? How awesome is that?"
He waved his magic wand pen, and made the wolf's scarily wide-pupil eyes squint mightily.
"Well, this is sufficient. Let's see what we've got inside, then!"
Glad he wasn't looking inside me with that starship control console of his. I would've been scared to know what he might see there.
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Thank you for reading my story! I do hope you had a fun time, and I look forward to seeing your comments! Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
See you on Friday!