Eye Health Update (Because You All Care So Much, I'm Sure)
So I have the pinkeye again. I do not know how, but I have somehow managed to re-infect myself with some lurking eye-strep germs, leading me to all kinds of panicky thoughts about a lifetime of cycling pinkeye infections, and that is really no way to live, so if this starts happening regularly, I may have to shoot myself in the face. (Can you imagine how lame that suicide note would be? “CANNOT GO ON STOP NEVERENDING EYE-PUS STOP REMEMBER MY BLEARY GAZE FONDLY END TRANSMISSION.”) (Apparently, I plan on sending a suicide telegram, rather than opting for the more traditional format. Can you even send a telegram any more?) Anyway, it seems that Pinkeye No. 2 is The Painful Pinkeye, The Light-Sensitive Pinkeye, the I Would Fashion an Eyepatch and Pretend to Be a Pirate But Considering My Already-Poor Depth Perception That Is Probably a Bad Idea Pinkeye, so if you need me today, I will be in my apartment with the blinds drawn, applying warm washcloths to my face and bitching about how I have to throw away my second pair of contacts in two weeks. Which sucks, because I had a whole list of things I wanted to do today, but since the sun is out for the first time all week, I will have to suffer in confinement like some sad, bored Victorian woman in her third trimester.
I am not going to the doctor again, by the way, and it is not just because I am cheap. Since the previous iteration of my impression of “The Eyes” (Wharton, 1910), I read (and had confirmed for me by my family doctor) that almost ninety percent of pinkeye infections clear up on their own. When I tried antibiotics before, the stupid generic packaging neglected to carry a warning that they (the antibiotics, not the packaging) would make my eyes all crazy-sensitive, and my whites got sunburned. (Yeah, you think you’re all hardcore with your pasty skin, emo goth kids, but have you ever sunburned your sclerae? That’s what I thought. Whitey represent.) And then my eyes had a swelling reaction to the moisturizing drops I started putting in to ease the sunburn, so after about a week and a half of rotating eye treatments that only served to screw me up in new, inventive ways, I gave up and said, “Fuck it. They’ll sort themselves out.” And you know what? They did. So loath as I am to take what could be mistaken for some kind of neo-hippie “the body knows how to heal itself” course of action, that is what I am doing for now. I have not broken up with modern medical science; we are just taking some time apart to reevaluate our priorities.
I am not going to the doctor again, by the way, and it is not just because I am cheap. Since the previous iteration of my impression of “The Eyes” (Wharton, 1910), I read (and had confirmed for me by my family doctor) that almost ninety percent of pinkeye infections clear up on their own. When I tried antibiotics before, the stupid generic packaging neglected to carry a warning that they (the antibiotics, not the packaging) would make my eyes all crazy-sensitive, and my whites got sunburned. (Yeah, you think you’re all hardcore with your pasty skin, emo goth kids, but have you ever sunburned your sclerae? That’s what I thought. Whitey represent.) And then my eyes had a swelling reaction to the moisturizing drops I started putting in to ease the sunburn, so after about a week and a half of rotating eye treatments that only served to screw me up in new, inventive ways, I gave up and said, “Fuck it. They’ll sort themselves out.” And you know what? They did. So loath as I am to take what could be mistaken for some kind of neo-hippie “the body knows how to heal itself” course of action, that is what I am doing for now. I have not broken up with modern medical science; we are just taking some time apart to reevaluate our priorities.