Dears,
My eye hurt. I figured some air-born bit of garden must have blown in there and would get itself out. But it didn't. So, I made an appointment with the eye guy.
On the way to his office I realized that I might soon be able to definitively answer the age old question of what was and what was not better than a sharp stick in the eye!
This would be a new line of demarcation, like the ever-popular childbirth line.
The only thing I've heard fall on the other side of the pain of childbirth is the pain of passing a kidney stone, but I remain unconvinced.
As proof, someone should do a graph showing the size of a kidney stone relative to the size of the average pee hole, to compare to one illustrating the size of a baby-head compared to a vagina.
Perhaps the roughness of the stone should be factored in, pain-wise, vs the smoothness of the baby-head. Although obviously some consideration has to be given to the baby's nose.
As I inched through traffic pondering this, it occurred to me that I may actually have eye cancer, and that these exhaust scented miles might stand as my last moments of pre-eye-cancer-innocence.
 |
| Jacob |
My beloved nephew-dog Jacob recently succumbed to eye cancer, but not before he had his eye removed and took to oozing a smell a lot like raw hamburger gone bad.
I figured that unlike Jacob, I'd wear perfume and a patch. Not a white gauze and tape medical looking patch, but a classic pirate style in black.
I knew I would not look sexy and mysterious, though. It seems that women of my age and texture can do absolutely nothing to look mysterious and very little to look sexy.
Sigh.
Practically any fat old guy in a patch could pull off swashbuckely however, which further pointed up the unfairness of everything, including whatever that was in my eye that made it hurt to blink.
Pre-pissed, and looking for a fight, I drew my pirate sword and soon learned that
the owie thing
in my left eye,
was just a sty!
XO Amy
3 comments:
Ahoy Shipmate,
Tell ye ole saw bones that he be sure of thy sty or there be a pistol ball waitin' to replace his eye.
Sincerely,
Blaggard Bilge Watch
On the other side of the coin my husband got cataract surgery last week. He was so excited that his vision was going to improve dramatically, as so many others who have had that surgery reported.
What never ever hardly ever happens is that one loses one's vision from cataract surgery. It wasn't even on our radar. But that is, indeed, what happened. He had a stroke in his eye, and now he is an artist who is blind in one eye.
I'm so glad all you had was a sty. The good thing about humans is they can speak and tell a doctor their eye is bothering them, and you can get the patch and be all pirate-y without dying - which to me is the important part... not dying.
Hi there, Amy.
I came across your blog thanks to Google.In the future you can use a used black teabag for treatment of a sty. Essentially, because black tea has many anti-microbial properties, they and the tannins help heal the sty. It's definitely a trick from your grandmother's secret book of treating ailments. :) Personally, I prefer brewing some black tea, taking a cup for myself and pouring a little into a double shot-glass and using a cotton ball to soak in the tea, and apply to eye. Then read a good book while I have a deliciously scented cotton ball strapped to my eye for a half hour.
Cheers!
Alex
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