Blinded

Where to begin. How about this – when your toddler tells you to take off your glasses, I now think the best response is to say, “no way,” and move as far from her as you can. That is not what I did last Tuesday night. What I did was remove my glasses. What she did was poke me in the eye.

This was not a cruel joke. She wanted to play with my eyes and see if they open and close the same way her new doll’s eyes do. She’s curious. That’s okay.

But here’s what happened next. I called to my husband, who works from home and was still in his office. I looked at my eye in the mirror, and could see it looked like something was in it. It was incredibly painful. I called my neighbor to drive me to the ER. I spent a bit of time there, got some eye drops and a prescription for strong painkillers, and went home.

The next 24 hours were horrible. I just felt like every time I moved my eye, pain shot through my entire body. I’ve been through labor – 26 hours of it – and this seemed worse. I took the pain killers. They made me feel sick. Then, that evening, I did get sick. A lot. Something was really wrong. Why was I puking, when the trouble was in my eye?

The next morning I went to an opthamologist. Do not read the rest of this paragraph if you are squemish. He examined my eye and told me I had a flap of my cornea that had to be removed. He numbed my eye and did it right there, peeling it off with these tweezer-looking things. He put a large patch on my eye and told me to return later that day for a  new patch.

The pain was much less, but I had to spend the rest of the week in a dark room, eyes closed. My poor husband had to take care of everything around the house. I had no idea what was going on at work, but tried to keep up with frequent calls with my colleague. There was nothing I could do but sit and wait.

Saturday morning the doctor took off the eye patch for the long time. My vision was blurry (it still is) but I was mostly pain free.

And then…Saturday afternoon I started sounding like I had a frog in my throat. I got to meet my gorgeous nephew for the first time…but I was nervous to breathe on him in case I was sick. I kept my distance. By Sunday evening, my voice was almost completely gone.

I’m back at work now. I can see, mostly, but I can’t talk. Go figure! I feel like a three-legged dog.

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