Last night I went to see Andrew Bird in Brooklyn. It. Was. Amazing. But this is not the focus of this entry. No, this is about my blurry contact. It had been blurry all day but I figured it was just because it was new. When I returned to my room to get ready for bed, I took out my left contact and let me tell you, it burned. I figured it was just some makeup in my eye or something because for some reason, yesterday’s look was Taylor Momson Raccoon Eyes Day. It was itchy but I could live so I went to sleep.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with the feeling that maybe there was an entire playground’s worth of gravel in my eyeball. Okay, exaggeration, but I am a baby and hate pain. I tried to look in the mirror in the hopes of finding and retrieving a large rock or ball of twine in there, but this place has bad lighting, my eye was all swollen, and my other eye is small anyway and I had trouble looking at things.
I called my parents in a panic because they could obviously help me from another state. Eventually, I mustered up the courage to call my professor, Danielle (Sorry for fighting you on that, Mom). Because she is a saint, she took me to the hospital and waited with me and everything.
We watched Married with Children until I was called in by the nurse who took my blood pressure and asked me about my eye with the birthmark before realizing that, no, that eye is not the problem. When I went back to the doctor-y part of the hospital, three people asked me how old I was and if I needed to go to pediatrics which made me feel great because I’ve been really worried about my youth fading and all. I was also wearing my pajamas, so that may not have helped.
I had a nice chat with my professor, but I’m sure she’d rather have been sleeping. The doctor who helped me was very nice. He put eye drops in my eye and then other drops that stained it to see if there was an abrasion. He kept asking me, “Are you alright?” which I’m sure is just procedure but also may have been genuine because I fidgeted every time he was within two feet of me/my eye (the whole time). Apparently, the abrasion was rather large. I didn’t see it, obviously, but I did get to cry out yellow tears from the dye.
The doctor prescribed some eye drop form of antibiotics and I’m supposed to wear my sunglasses outside and stuff, which will look extra cool today because it’s really overcast. So, shout out to St. Luke’s Roosevelt Hospital of New York. Thank you for not telling me I had pink eye (because I was dreading that).
Also shout out to Duane Reade for their speedy pharmacy service. They were not particularly friendly and the woman was making this stupid face the whole time I was giving her my address in Michigan, but my eyeball is feeling better.
Shout out to Danielle for being awesome. Shout out to my family with an added request to my grandparents to not get all worried if/when they read this. I am fine and me and my eyes will be home soon.