Eyes, The Drain Pipes To The Soul

Oh, dear. I had NO IDEA what was in store for my eyes! Sure, I figured I had a case of conjunctivitis, caused by my recent cold. Inconveniently showing up on the day I was almost over that cold! The 8th day! Surely a common cold runs its course in 7-10 days, right? My cough had seemed more productive, and was lessening, as if I was finally near clearing out the gunk in my lungs. My nasal membranes shrunk, and I could get a whiff of smells every now and then, and partially taste food. But NOW I HAD RUNNY EYES!

You know what the common name is for conjunctivitis is, right? Pinkeye! It's a big no-no in the school system. The Pony got sent home with it once, on the day of his Valentine's Day party! Poor Pony! I believe he was in 2nd or 3rd grade at the time. I took him straight to the optometrist, who gave him some eye drops. Even though they only work for the bacterial kind of conjunctivitis, and not the viral kind. I'm pretty sure it was just standard procedure for the Doc, with school kids. They can't return to classes until 24 hours after starting the eye drops.

I even had it myself once, that dreaded pinkeye. I don't remember where I was working at the time, if I was teaching, or adjudicating claims at the unemployment office. Anyhow, I DO remember that I went to my mom's house, and laid on her couch, unable even to watch TV for the painful, runny eyes. My mom brought me cool washcloths to lay over them. And waited on me like a devoted servant, covering my right foot every time the blanket slipped off of it. I'm guessing that she took the boys to school for me, and picked them up later, too. But after that one day, I was better. Maybe it happened on a Friday, and I got two extra days of rest. I don't really remember.

I don't remember giving myself eye drops, either. Nor my mom putting any in, and certainly not Farmer H doing it for me. So I was pretty sure I recovered that time without eye drops, and figured that I will this time, too. Even though Farmer H offered me his Artificial Tears eye drops that his ophthalmologist gave him for his dry eye. Of course I turned down his offer! Conjunctivitis is highly contagious, and if I touched that dropper to my eye juice (surely you don't think I'd let Farmer H stand over me with an implement pointed at my eyeball), it would give him pinkeye, too.

Things were about to get exponentially more miserable after my town trip. I sat on the short couch to chat with Farmer H while he ate leftover spaghetti/rigatoni for his supper before the auction. He commented, "Well, your eye looks a little red. WHOA! The right one is even redder!"

Shortly after he left, I had a definite relapse. My sandpapery eyes began to get gunk in them! Stringy gunk that prevented me from seeing clearly! I'd try to roll my eyes, and cut them side-to-side. Sometimes that moved the gunk. The gunk liked to convene at my eye corners. Every hour, I had to dab at it with a fresh Puffs With Lotion. Sometimes it was gooky. Yellow like your snot at the end of a cold. Sometimes it was crusty. A yellow/gray/green scabby looking nugget. I diligently cleared my eye area at routine intervals. It was hard to read the monitor of New Delly. It was hard to watch LIVE PD on the big screen while cranked back in my OPC (Old People Chair).

The worst part was: conjunctivitis is like starting your cold all over again!

I started getting a sore throat. The wet cough came back, like the first day of my sickovirus. My ears hurt when I swallowed. The night of sleep I'd been looking forward to was once again plagued with coughing fits. Now with the back pain I'd incurred the day before. My crusty eyes didn't even want to open to snake-sized slits. And when I persuaded them, they were RED inside. Not pink. RED. Fiery red. Like a fire engine. I had 5-alarm eyes!

Wow. I went to bed at 1:00 a.m., and didn't get up until 10:30. Very weak. The eyes weren't leaking quite so much. They didn't hurt quite so much. But they were still RED. I knew I wasn't going to town. I sent Farmer H a text to bring me home a 44 oz Diet Coke, and two scratchers.

Which of course were losers.

Now it's Saturday night as I write this. 7:19 p.m. The cough is better. The sore throat is better. The eyes don't require gunk-removal, and don't hinder my New Dellying. But they're still RED. I'm hoping for a good night's sleep, and feeling well enough to get the house straightened up on Sunday. I have to make a deal with The Devil's Playground on Monday, to lay in provisions for the Thanksgiving feast. Because we GO PICK UP THE PONY ON TUESDAY!

I really hope I'm up to it.