Wednesday, October 26, 2011

use only as directed

The good news is that my pupils are almost back to the same size. The bad news is that it took me a $30 co-pay and a lot of freaking out to learn that you really shouldn’t douse one of your contacts in the kind of eye drops that say “Remove contact lenses before using.”

I guess I sort of thought all clear-colored, eye-related solutions were the same? And I’d forgotten about that one time I ran out of contact solution and soaked my contacts in eye drops all night, which made my eyes into giant fireballs, but I guess they were fireballs of the same size?

Anyway, this morning I put my contacts in, went to Zumba at the gym, impressed myself with how well I could shake my ass, was not impressed by the actual shakiness of my ass, took a shower and—when I looked in the mirror to put eye shadow on—saw that my left pupil looked like Puss in Boots when he goes all big-eyed:

…and my right pupil was more like Puss in Boots as seductive hero.

Except he wouldn’t be seductive or adorable if he was all lopsided and crazy-eyed. I literally had crazy-eye!

I panicked, as per usual, and called my dad (he’s an optical engineer—maybe he knew about these things? He didn’t, but he told me not to panic, as per usual). Then I made an appointment at the optometrist’s office below mine, which seemed more convenient and friendly than the ER. At this point I was thinking maybe the eye drops were at fault, but my brain was also shouting, You might have a brain tumor! I might have a me-tumor!

Dr. Gording shined some lights in my eyes, said he didn’t see any signs of inflammation and concluded the drops were to blame. “You’re a little young for a stroke,” he said, sort of as a joke, but my brain was like, Aubrey Plaza! Aubrey Plaza!

On Marc Maron’s comedian-interview podcast WTF—which AK got me addicted to, to the point where I kind of want to stake out his house because he talks about our exact couple-block radius of Highland Park all the time—Aubrey Plaza of Parks and Rec fame talked about how she had a stroke when she was twenty!

But I haven’t lost speech or movement, just another little shred of sanity, so I guess I’m good. Dammit, I do all the things you’re supposed to do. I floss. I buckle up. I paint my nails in a well ventilated area. You’d think that a moment of rebellion might do me good. Next time I’m going to abuse a drug, I guess I’ll go find some ecstasy or something, and then at least I’ll have some fun in exchange for my crazy-eye.*

*Note to the adoption agency social workers and/or potential birthparents who I’m pretending/hoping are now part of my reading audience: I’m kidding. I don’t do drugs. But also, I don’t judge people who do, and a baby born with a smidge of weed in his or her system would probably just be really mellow, right?


Claire said...

Oh, I sympathize. I had a vision freak out a couple weeks ago myself. Turns out when I'm not obsessing over my vision based on things I've read, they are basically fine, which is to say the astigmatism I've had for ages is less noticeable.

Also, I had this awesome anti-nausea patch this summer he stuck behind my ear. The doctor told me about five different times not to touch it and then touch my eye without washing my hands because it'll blow your pupil out. Which will then make the people in the ER think you've had a stroke. I didn't, so it was all anti-nauseau goodness for me.

Cheryl said...

I had a similar experience, but with a hot pepper instead of an anti-nausea patch and a fiery eyeball instead of a weird pupil.