Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,89
a day. But by Thursday, my left eye is so severely inflamed and the pain is so unbearable, that I just know something is seriously wrong. I immediately make an appointment with an ophthalmologist and the receptionist at his clinic manages to squeeze me into a slot tomorrow.
The next morning, Kars gives me a ride to the eye doc’s office. My vision has become so impaired that I’m certain I’d cause a pile up on the freeway if I’m at the wheel.
We arrive at Okelberry Vision Center unharmed and intact.
In the waiting room, I find myself observing the folks around me (through my one good eye), and I’m shocked. Aside from me and Karsynn, not a single person here is under sixty.
Kars nudges me. “Psssst. You’re here along with all the senior citizens suffering from age-related macular degeneration; they’re here for cataract surgery!” She snorts derisively. “Just like you!”
I shoot daggers her way, but it doesn’t really have the desired effect when pus is oozing out of one eye.
Flummoxed, Kars hands me a Kleenex. “Calm down, Maddy. I don’t want you going blind on me, ya hear?”
“Madison Lee?” The nurse looks up from her pad.
I stand up and trot into a dark den.
After I relay all my symptoms to Dr. Okelberry, he performs a slit eye exam on my butchered orb. Minutes later, he diagnoses me with Ocular Herpes, also known as Herpes of the Eye.
“Herpes? I cannot have herpes!” Is the first thing that flies out of my mouth.
He offers me a kind smile. “It is nothing to worry about. Herpes simplex is a pretty common virus. It’s the same virus that causes the cold sores that you get in your mouth.”
“Oh,” I say with a puzzled frown. “But what causes it?”
“Stress can trigger it.” He regards me. “Now have you been stressed at all lately?”
Hillary has been doing side-by-sides with me for the past several weeks. On top of that, I have all these unattainable sales quotas I’m forced to meet. So, to answer his question, “Yes, I’ve been feeling considerably over stressed lately.”
Dr. Okelberry prescribes some antiviral eye drops to treat my infected eye and sends me on my way home. I spend my entire weekend holed up in my dungeon of a room, with the lights off and venetian blinds shut, willing the horrible Herpes to go away.
On Monday, I troop into work with an eye patch, much like Tom Cruise in Valkyrie. A word to the wise—wearing an eye patch is extremely uncomfortable. But I’ve no choice; I need to shield my Herpes eye from the glaring outdoor sunlight, as well as the garish indoor fluorescent lighting.
Truong’s chin drops at the sight of me. “What the balls?!?”
“I have Ocular Herpes,” I say, straining to see out of one eye.
There is a moment of silence as he blatantly stares at my eye patch. Then he throws his head back and roars with laughter. “Maddy, please don’t go around saying that you have Ocular Herpes. People will think that you got poked in the eye with your boyfriend’s snake.”
I roll my one good eye. “Shut up, Truong! I don’t even have a boyfriend. Plus I have Ocular herpes. And it’s not the same as the STD.”
“It is a STD if you got poked in the eye with Mika’s snake,” he taunts. “Oh my God, I cannot believe Mika gave you herpes.”
“Stop saying that!” I hiss and steal a quick glance at Mika, who thankfully appears to be preoccupied with a call.
Good. I don’t want him seeing me like this.
Truong arches an eyebrow. “Speaking of snakes, do you think Mika has an anaconda or a rattlesnake in his trousers?”
I shake my head in utter amazement. Typical. This is classic Truong. He’ll veer the topic to penises, balls, and asses whenever the opportunity arises.
Hurriedly, I log in to my apps before The Führer cracks her whip.
While my Crystal Ball app is chugging along, Truong turns to me and asks, “What type of snake do you think I have?” He rearranges his scarf that’s loosely draped over his Lacoste shirt. “Flatter me, Maddy.”
Truong is totally asking for it. “Snake? You mean worm?”
His eyes widen like a hurt puppy. Stepping forward, he swats me in the face with his scarf, whipping it like Bruce Lee with a nunchuck.
“Stop it!” I protest, half laughing.
Eventually, Truong stops with a “Hi-Yah!” Then bizarrely, he begins quoting Bruce Lee, “Maddy, you need to empty your mind; be formless, shapeless like water. Now you put water