Eye-yiyi...

I'm not sure exactly what unholy thing embedded itself in the ridge above my left eye, but hopefully, the good folk at the university health center will find a way to dig it out without too much scarring. In the meanwhile, every look in the mirror reminds me of Charles Lawton playing Quasimodo.

When I pick up my eyepatch, can I get a discount on the parrot?

As a followup to my previous post, the bad news is that I have medicine which I have to put in my eye. Those of you who know my Flinch Reflex Of Doom(TM) should find that prospect amusing.

The good news? It might not be Shingles.

Not that I had any idea that it might be to begin with until after the doctor told me that particular Procrustean Bedtime Story, but hey.

So now I just have to line up some Ninjas to fight over the next few days, and it's all good.

I had to STICK A FINGER in my EYE!

Said Flinch Reflex Of Doom(TM) was out in force when I tried to administer the medicine for my eye infection. The procedure is simple: Pull out your lower eyelid, squirt some of the medicine from the tube into the gap between it and your eyeball, and then close the lid over the medicine and let it spread itself around.

Spider-Man couldn't grip something tighter than my lower eyelid gripped my eyeball. So I had to squoosh some medicine onto my fingertip, and jam that in the part of my eye where the lids meet.

Some fun, huh?

(no subject)

Ray better keep the spork. Can't be sure that any face will rip off that easily without mechanical assistance, after all...