Today I woke up late for work.
I called the boss and hurried through the morning routine. I drove in, because I would have been 1/2 hour later had I taken the bus like I usually do. On the way there, I noticed that my right eye didn't want to focus. Stepping into the factory, I realized that I was seeing two images in my right eye.
Four hours, watching the double hands whirl around both sets of numbers on the clock. Told the boss, "Sorry Dude, gotta bail."
Now, just as if the world wants to let me know something, I realize -- I work in an
optical lab. Today I am finishing reading
For Your Eyes Only. And in the car, on the way to the
opthamologist's office, the radio plays
Eyes Without A Face.
So I get there, go through the full regimen of tests. There's one really ugly one, where, in order to determine how much lubrication your tear glands are producing, they drip in some local anasthetic and insert a match-sized paper strip under your lower eyelid. Keep your eyes closed for 5 minutes.
Then they remove the strips.
Have you ever been smoking a cigarette and had it stick to your lip?
When they dropped the dilator in my eyes, it stung like fire.
When I had dilated to 9 centimeters, they took me back into the exam room and finished checking my eyes. The verdict?
My right cornea had, sometime during the night, dried out and become swollen. This distorted my vision. The doctor, who, strangely, looked shockingly like Louie Anderson, gave me some anti-inflammitory eyedrops, and said if my vision wasn't perfect by Friday, I should return for more tests.
But it looks like everything is going to be fine.