My left eye weeps steadily, forcing me to daub it with a tissue from time to time so it doesn’t get rubbed raw. It makes me feel like a James Bond villain, like I should be at the controls of an orbiting mind control laser (or at least playing
baccarat Texas hold ’em) rather than jockeying a keyboard to ensure kids can take reading quizzes.
The pink eye took hold Saturday. It had already torn through all three of the rugrats, hit my mom shortly after, then somehow made it to a teacher at school a couple weeks later (may or may not be my fault, but we share a phone), and finally came full circle and kicked my cornea. My wife is frantically nuking every surface in the house with a Clorox spray to scourge any germs that may be waiting to kick her in the cornea. If she keeps it up, the place will sparkle like the phony sets in kitchen cleanser commercials. I think she’s even contemplating bringing Billy Mays and one of his miracle cleaners on board.
At the very least, he could shout the germs to death.
I also feel like I’m developing OCD. I carried a Clorox wipe with me the first day back to work, and drew some funny looks from teachers and students when I’d type a few things on a nearby keyboard, click around the mouse, then pull a wipe and swipe everything I’d touched. Then I’d daub my eye with a tissue and start all over again. I reach over and jerk off the hand sanitizer every few minutes, and I rub its goo all over my hands. Just in case.
The last time I had pink eye, I thought it was just something in my eye. At that time, I was replacing a water heater and thought a piece of metal or solder, or maybe the solder flux, was causing the irritation. I went to the doctor a few days later, got diagnosed, and had to get this piece of pink film growing in the corner of my eye cut out. (Yes, cut out. Creepy.) I walked around with it for days and it didn’t spread.
This time? It’s like it leaps across a hard gaze. Fortunately we had the eye drops on hand after it hit the rugrats, so I was able to contain it quickly.
Now I just hope my eye stops dripping so I can lose the temptation to shove a hot poker into my sclera.