Ailments. Afflictions. Infirmity. Illnesses. I have had my share, and they have all been, for the most part, normal cold-like, flu-like, allergy-like, sicknesses. But then there are the alien type, what-in-the-world-did-you-do-to-yourself-wait-here-while-i-get-the-other-doctors-so-we-can-talk-about-you-after-you-leave illnesses. And I’ve had a few of those. And I find myself wondering if my kiddos will inherit my knack for the wacky health.
In 4th grade, what was I, 10? 11?, I came down with a strange eye affliction. They thought it was pink eye and treated it as such, but the daylight and the class lights hurt my eyes and I was soon the strange kid who wore sunglasses in class. I recall many visits to the eye doctor who’s waiting room sported a TV in the corner that only showed EYE SURGERIES. Imagine being a little kid, with a sore eye, at the eye doctor’s office, and the only distraction in the room is a TV that shows surgeries on eye balls. Bleh. After a mis-diagnosis of eye herpes (OMG), they decided I had something even stranger, prescribed an assortment of remedies, and after a month or so of wearing sunglasses to class, I was finally healed and left with mild scarring on my cornea that only an eye doctor could see with his telescoping whatever. Mild scarring on my cornea. Yep, just another day in the life of me.
We’ll skip over walking-pneumonia in the 6th grade that had me quarantined at home for a good month or so, and the fact that my body forgot to make me a permanent eye tooth, and I had to suffer through a removable fake tooth on my retainer so that when I took my retainer out to eat, heaven forbid, so would I be taking out my tooth. The girl with dentures in 7th grade. We’ll go right to college where my afflictions became more entertaining. They say college life runs you down, which must be true, because during winter quarter one year, I found myself suffering from bronchitis, laryngitis, sinusitis, and conjunctivitis all at the same time. And then I got a weird eye thing again.
On the bus, on the way back to school from Spring Break in Mexico (wheeeeeeeeeeeee!), a dear pal of mine accidentally stuck her finger in my eye. Thank God it was on the way HOME from MEXICO and not on the way there. I’d probably only have 1 working eye right now. My friends and I tried to laugh it off, and I tried to ignore the feeling that there was a large rock in my eye. A painful rock. With jagged sharp edges. So my pals took me to the ER. And the doctor put a green dye in my eye. And it made my eye glow in the dark. And my friends came in to see. And they laughed and tried not to pee. And the doctor said “what-in-the-world-did-you-do-to-yourself-wait-here-while-i-get-the-other-doctors-so-we-can-talk-about-you-after-you-leave” and he brought in more doctors and said “look!” and they looked and gasped and in the end I had 6 layers of my cornea flapping in the wind. Sigh. So the doctor sent me home with Vicodin and and eye patch that I was to wear for 1 week.
This is me in college after the eye "incident". There are other pictures. Of me thinking I could swim in my bed, thanks to the lovely Vicodin. You won't see those here. This is embarrassing enough.
You try being an English major wearing an eye patch the whole first week of Spring Quarter. Professors expected me to read an entire book that week and my only good eye could barely read the instructions on my medication. My good eye, sick of doing the whole “seeing” job alone, would give out on me in the middle of campus and I’d be standing there, pirate-like, with my other eye closed, trying to feel my way to a bench. And I was expected to get through half of my Norton Anthology. Right.
My adult post-college years weren’t any better; I spent a week at my first job suffering through a skinned up knee that would seep puss through my one pair of professional black pants (I was running in flip flops, and then flipped and flopped on the sidewalk). My knee grossed my boss out so much he sent me to the ER, with a stack of envelopes to stuff, because, well, I had work to do. I figured when I became a Mom, I would grow out of these random accidents and bodily afflictions.
I figured wrong. The problem with illnesses as a Mom, is, you don’t really have the luxury to go to the doctor whenever your body plays a joke on you. Bronchitis? Eh, I’ll get over it. Fever? Stick a cold washcloth on my forehead and let’s go to the park! Stomach Flu? “Hold on honey, I’ll get make you breakfast after mommy throws up real quick.”
And then my body decided another eye affliction was due. My eyes hurt and they looked gross, but I was in denial until a family member said “um, yo, your eye, is um, YO.” And then my Mom came over to watch the kids and MADE me go to the doctor. A pure luxury. The doctor scowled and said “how long have you had this?” and antibiotics were prescribed along with instructions to give my eyes hot compresses for 5 minutes five times a day. Ha. I have three kids under the age of 6 and you want me to have my eyes CLOSED for FIVE minutes at a time, FIVE times a day? Yeah that’s not gonna happen. And in the end I had to have one of my eye styes removed. Yes, one of them. I have a few. I say it’s from little dirty feet stepping on my pillow while they look out the window in my bedroom, or from the eye makeup that I wear 3 times a year. But the doctor says it is probably from bacteria that resulted from elevated hormone levels which resulted from having kids. Thanks kids. So this happened:
Whaddya know, same eye.
So there we are. At least my kids thought I was cool when I came home from the doctor. “Mom! You are a Pirate! Like on Jake and the Never Land Pirates! But put your sunglasses back on, then you’re not so scary looking.”
RITZ
momantic comedy 
you forgot to mention how fun the fake tooth was in college, when it glowed in the dark with the black lights! xoxo love you!