This past weekend I had a burst of energy to devote to making home improvements - in particular, to my bedroom. I have a 2 story bedroom with a really cool loft. I bought a bamboo-ish ceiling fan that went perfect with the 'tropical theme' I have going on.
I had spent all Saturday morning in my pajamas figuring out how to properly install a ceiling fan. I actually read the directions!
About 5 hours later, including a lunch break, I had a functioning fan and light fixture. I was so proud of myself. I felt like Bob Vila. I celebrated by lounging around the house for the rest of the day, watching movies, sliding around the wood floors in my socks and dancing around like a maniac with myself. It was quite enjoyable and I encourage you to do the same.
Around 9 pm as I was laying in bed watching tv, I got this excruciating pain in my left eye.
HOLY CRAP! WHAT IS IN MY EYE!
I wanted to scream, and cry, and pull out my eyeball and dip it in cold milk. I did 2 out of the 3.
I tried eye drops. I cupped water in my hand and looked at my palm underwater. Nothing helped. It feld as if I had shards of glass imbedded in my eyelid and was skatingback and forth across my eyeball. I wouldn't have been suprised if I stared crying blood.
I had to go to the hospital.
For a brief moment I thought about driving myself there, but then I had another searing pain tear across my eyeball causing me to double over in pain, both eyes shut and tearing; and I thought otherwise.
By 10 pm I had no choice to call my mom."Mom, I need your help. I need a ride to the emergency room."
I'm sure that's what every mother wants to hear from their children.
Mom lives about 30 miles away, but every minute that I had to wait seemed like an eternity. It was raining and although I was hoping that she would be careful, I wanted her to hurry the fuck up!
Finally she showed up close to 11, and I came out with a tissue pressed to my eye. I think that once she saw me alive, she calmed down a bit.
I have always had problems with my eyes. I have a lazy eye, I'm talking drops to fend off glaucoma, so anything that threatens the health of my eyes is a very big deal.
The emergency room was pretty active. There was one woman next to me who broke her finger, another guy who just couldn't stop itching, and there was Tommy. 'Tommy Hilfiger' as he was affectionately called was an older man who appeard to be mentaly-deficient. He had taken the 'choo-choo train' from Manhatten to New Brunswick just to see Rudy. Rudy was the only one who could treat Tommy's leg.
Tommy made himself at home in the ER, walking around, talking to the nurses, telling everyone about his leg and how he needed to see Rudy.
Rudy. Rudy. Rudy.
That, and that he needed to be done to make the 1 am train back to NYC, and $8 for the ride.
While I was waiting, they asked me to try and read the eye chart - with my F'd up eye.
"Are you serious??" I could hardly keep my eye open, let alone try and read stupid letters from 20 feet away. It made it past 2 lines before wanting to gouge my eye out with a hot poker.
I finally got to see the doctor and it turned out that whatever I had in my eye was washed out, but it did wind up scratching the shit out of my cornea. It was the scratches that was causing so much pain. Off I went home, in the rain, with my sample bottle of antibiotic eye drops.
Mom took me back home and reluctantly left me there. She wanted me to come home with her and spend the day there to be taken care of, but I declined. There was nothing that I could do there that I couldnt' do at home.
But Mom is the greatest. It's good to know that I can call and she'll still come running in the rain.
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