Thursday, April 26, 2007
No coffee + lost contact = slow start to the day
So in lieu of offering my insights and entertaining anecdotes this morning, I decided to buy myself some coffee. Because really ... who wants to hang around with me when I haven't had my coffee and since there are two little people here who don't have the choice of hanging around me, I needed to make the run for Sterling.
I returned, made my coffee, and was just getting ready to get my cup out of the cupboard when the Man approaches and utters those words I hate to hear come out of his mouth:
Mommy ... I lost my contact.
Great. Just great. Doesn't your eyeball KNOW it is time for Mommy's coffee? How DARE your contact just jump out of your eye, unaided I am sure, thereby putting off my trip to Caffeine Nirvana.
So I do what we normally do ... start yelling at every child in the vicinity of where the contact could possibly be to get out of the room and do it quickly. Bless the Man's heart: he wants to help, so he gets down on his hands and knees and tries to look for it. This is a child who has one good eye and one eye that he can't see Jack out of, and blending those two things together just doesn't work well.
We spent the next 20 minutes on the floor, and I finally found it out in the kitchen. Right at the edge of the kitchen floor and the living room. It travelled with him. So we practiced the STOP! EXCLAIM! DROP and FIND! exercise. It is one I need him to learn, and learn well. Especially at $ 200 a pop.
So here I am, with my second cup of coffee almost entirely gone, feeling a little better about the world, thanking my lucky stars as I hear the rain coming down that I chose NOT to take the Monkey out for her little field trip to a park (although the story IS indoors, the trek back there isn't and it is on a slicker than snot wooden walkway that would surely claim me as a victim as least 10 times because I choose to wear my slicker than snot Birks when I go back there).
It seems that eyeballs have been the subject of interest around this household. To answer the questions ...
Yes, the Man was born with cataracts, just like me. And they were in the exact same place on both of our lenses. That is freaky right there. To know that I was carrying an egg around in my body with the propensity for that birth defect, and Ace's sperm decided THAT was the egg it had to impregnate. Ok ... that sounds bad. I LOVE the Man. LOVE LOVE LOVE him. I just didn't want to wish this on a child at all. I think you get my drift. (here is an article about the Man's issues, if you want to read up on it. I have been trying to find an awareness group for this disease, but have been unsuccessful so far).
I had a vitreous detachment, not a retinal detachment. This is what I had suspected. However, I am in a six-week window of risk for a retinal detachment because things have been shaken up in the eyeball.
The floaters when they come out just sit in the eye, Robin. They go nowhere. They remain there. I am sure they dissolve at some point, or I just learn to ignore them. However, these being the new ones and always right there, I see them all the time now. When the doc started shining his extremely bright light in my eye, he exclaimed "WOW! You DO have a lot of floaters in there! WOW!"
Now I am off to finish up some work for the day. I also have a Criminal Law final to write, and get myself prepared to teach Contract Law next month. Oh the joys of teaching ...
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
The eyes of a 90 year old