Don't Blink Damn It

My eyes are a bit sore tonight because today I had a five hour appointment with The Minister of the Interior, also known as my eye doctor. Today's appointment was special. The doctor wanted to check my eye pressure over an extended period of time, meaning once every hour for five hours. If you have never had your eye pressure tested in an eye doctor's office, it consists of sticking a little purple light directly into the middle of your eye. If you tend to blink a lot when somebody pokes you in the eye, like I do, it turns out to not be a very pleasant experience.
"Sir, you blinked again. I'm afraid I'll have to recheck that eye. Now please sit still and don't blink while I stick this thing in your eye."

In addition to the pressure checks, the doctor also wanted to measure my corneal thickness. This was done by a technician who ushered me into a small room filled with what looked like medieval torture equipment.
"Trust me sir, it won't hurt."
She then took a long instrument with a pinpoint end on it, and started stabbing me in the eye. First she did the right eye, after which I complained that it felt like she had stabbed me ten times. The technician assured me that she had done exactly that, and that I should sit still while she did the same thing to the other eye. So I sat there and let her stab me in the other eye ten times. The creepy thing is that I could see that thing coming at me until it actually smooshed into my cornea. And for all this torture and discomfort, I was charged ninety five dollars. I wasn't expecting that. That was way over my co-pay. The nice lady at the front desk explained that my insurance doesn't cover the stabbing you in the eye test, only the sticking you in the eye with a purple light test.
"Really, does my insurance policy cover getting poked in the ass by my insurance company?"