ETA: Sale extended for one day (per numerous requests) because IT GOT MY OTHER EYE. Also: see link to disgusting picture below. Peter snuck up on me in bed and shoved the camera in my face and WHAMMO. God, I look like the eye on top of the pyramid on the dollar bill. Except it looks way better.
Preamble: I HATE THIS SO MUCH.
I hate being sick generally. (It’s all true about [even former] nurses being terrible patients. Even more terrible than doctors, probably.) I’ve had a cold for the last few days (it’s Peter’s: I mutated it a bit — what else would I do with a disease but tinker with it). I’ve been drinking tea and feeling my lymph nodes and sulking and doing all the things one does at such a time, when they feel their medical knowledge should by rights protect them from the smaller indignities of life.
Around eight last night I started feeling like I had something in my left eye. That there’s-an-eyelash-stuck-in-there feeling: you know the one. I had just had some ramen with wasabi in it and I kind of laughed and thought “Right, maybe I got some wasabi up there.” Funny.
By about midnight it was becoming plain that wasabi was not the issue. The upper eyelid was swelling.
4 AM I woke up and asked Peter (in his office working, he’s the Owl in the Owl Springs Partnership) if he’d wander downstairs and make me a hot pack with a washcloth and a Zip-Loc bag. I was thinking maybe I had an inflamed tear duct or something. Got some relief from the pack, turned over and tried to sleep a bit.
8 AM … went to take care of things and look in the mirror…
This was definitely nothing to do with wasabi. NOT AT ALL. (sigh)
(Normally the understanding is “Pictures or it didn’t happen.” Forgive me for not posting something here that would, as Hawkeye once said, “put you right off your french fried lobster.” (ETA: Well, he took a picture anyway. I’m beginning to regret showing him how to use Tumblr.) Peter took one look at me and said (torn between awe and pity, since when I look awful I look really awful), “I don’t think I want to go to the pub with you tonight. The neighbors might think I punched you.”) …So what have we got? Sudden-onset eye irritation, swollen upper or lower lid (both in this case, we do nothing by halves around here), incredibly bloodshot sclera, at the same time as a cold? Snap diagnoses: Viral conjunctivitis. OH JOY.
(BTW: What you can’t see here is me stopping every five minutes to put a cold pack on my eye, or wipe the constant tearing out of the bad one so I can see to type. I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS SO MUCH.)
So. Measures taken: In-house hygeine alert, as this this is incredibly contagious. I become a pariah in my own home. All towels, facecloths, and other impedimenta in contact with me become untouchable. Mild saline solution prepared to cleanse eye. Aspirin taken. Cold packs prepared. Sticky note on monitor says (in large letters easily visible to nearsighted woman without glasses) DO NOT TOUCH YOUR OTHER EYE STUPID, NO NO NO. Husband warned to treat me like a walking case of Ebola (because, though he is a truly ownderful person, he is also, if at all possible, even worse as a patient than I am.) (But oh God, no cuddling, no, argh, no anything really until I cease to be infectious. This sucks unusually hard. DAMN YOU ADENOVIRUSES!)
And: to cheer me up, because I could really use it: I hereby declare a sale at the Ebooks Direct store. 50% off everything,
today only until 23:59 Hawaiian time on Wednesday the 16th. the discount code BUMEYE. Go on in and get yourself a 3-book set of the Young Wizards New Millennium editions or the full original-YW-series 9-book set or a copy of CSI Alfheim or some fairy tales or something. Do.
If you saw this pitiable rant on Twitter, please do RT it if you can see your way clear. (OUCH, inadvertent optical pun, sorry.) If you saw it on Tumblr, reblog it if you like, it’ll be much appreciated. (OW OW OW this damn eye cold pack again). Knock yourselves out. I’m going to sit here with this squishy plastic dishtowel-wrapped thing against my face making me functionally useless, and practice cursing in Rihannsu or something.
…End of strop. Thank you for your continued support. :)
(Dammit, what’s the point in being sick in such a way that you can’t even lie in bed and watch Sherlock DVDs successfully? Gaaaaah. …And this cold pack’s not even cold any more. What, did somebody leave entropy running again? Feck.)