Sunday of the long weekend. I was working hard on stripping wallpaper off my main floor stairway. Sweating away, but in a good mood. Had the tunes blasting and my daughter helping me. Plus, there is something really satisfying about peeling long strips of paper off the wall. Yes, I’m a peeler.
We had great momentum and got the whole job finished with enough time for me to shower off and head out to a wedding reception for a friend of mind. She was married in December, but she lives in the Yukon now and she and her hubs came down for a visit so her family threw them a little drop in/celebration.
A couple of hours there, a few wobbly pops and I was tired and ready to go home and relax for the rest of the night.
Not that long after getting home and getting all comfy and ready for down time/bed, I felt something in my right eye.
I did the thing where you pull your lashes so your eyelid goes down over the bottom lid and hopefully whatever is in there comes out, but it didn’t work. It was getting painful and I could literally feel whatever it was scratching my eye. I went into the bathroom and started trying to flush it with water. At least ten minutes of blinking my eye into water and still the damn thing wouldn’t come out.
My husband said we had to go to the hospital. “you don’t mess around with eyes”. And that’s when I discovered something totally new about myself.
Apparently, when it comes to anything being done to my eye, I COMPLETELY freak out.
I’m talking full on, hysterical, non communicative crying. I couldn’t speak, I could barely breath, I just cried. Hard.
The upside of that is that I cried out whatever was in my eye to begin with. But, as the (total asshole) doctor would tell me, I also scratched my cornea.
I was given an eyepatch for the night.
My husband, trying to lighten the mood now that I was breathing again and able to talk, asked our nurse if this meant we could get a parrot. Everybody was trying to get me to say “Arrrr”. But I couldn’t do it. Well, I wouldn’t. I just was so upset. Even my kids, little ‘darlings’ that they are kept coming into my room and asking me what letter our last name starts with. I answered with sign language. Well, one finger in particular, anyway.
So, my balance was off with the one bad eye covered and I was worn out and exhausted after my freak out so I fell asleep fairly soon after that. Next morning I took off the stupid patch and looked at my poor eye, almost looking like I had been punched, since the yellow dye they had dropped in it had smudged all over my eyelids and I had baggies that could have packed a full week’s worth of vacation in them.
Anyway, the eye is feeling better today and thankfully does not need to be covered up for any length of time, but I will tell you, if I ever have to go through that again it will be too soon.
Completely unrelated: Sending out positive thoughts and prayers today to all the people in Oklahoma. My drama seems so insignificant compared to yours. My heart goes out to the families who have lost loved ones. Be safe, be well, and take care of one another.