I got cat litter in my eye yesterday. I'm just going to pause for a sec and let you laugh. Cuz, I KNOW you have never heard that one before. ((Pause))
Insert Elevator Music
Yeah, I know. Who does this ever happen to? Ever? I've contemplated the conversation with my eye doctor. I could see the look of concern on his face as he tried to figure out how to remove the lone cat litter pebble under the top of my eyelid. He's perplexed, wrinkles in his forehead popping out all over the place. Maybe a bead of sweat or two. He didn't learn this in college. We're going to have to remove your eyelid. I'm sorry. Would you like an eye patch to match the color of your other eye? We have quite the selection.
I did learn something from Chemistry after all--how to flush your eyeball. So, I'm basically sprawled out on the bathroom counter, hanging upside down under the faucet, so the water could reach under the top of my eyelid (can you picture this?), holding my hair back, trying not to touch my skin to the sink basin (germs, you know), and all of a sudden this song from my childhood goes through my head. This song has actually come up quite often over the years. I first heard it sometime in the late 1970's. It was a public service announcement for Hepatitis. These are the things I remember from childhood, people. These are the things that stick.
I searched high and low for the original song, which was not to be found, but thanks to the good people of YouTube, I found a lovely family to sing it for you. Don't leave now. You've GOT to see this. It will only take a minute.
These people apprently grew up with me in Phoenix, the first and only place I've ever heard any sort of reference to the song. We were probably in fourth grade together. Apparently the song stuck for them too. And look, they totally taught their kids the song, complete with symptom actions! (See mom, I'm not the only one)
So I flushed and flushed, to no avail. I was careful not to scratch my eye, instead obsessively looking right and left, up and down, squeezing my eye shut, trying to "push" the cat litter pebble over and out. I got nothing.
I update my status on Facebook to let my friends and networks know I have cat litter in my eye. I crave sympathy.
I walk around my house proclaiming over and over that I have cat litter in my eye, because this is just something that needs to be said out loud...over and over. My kids just say, "Still?" Yes, STILL! The minutes tick by as I curse the litter box, my cat (making a "note to self" to Google "how to toilet train your cat"), and the writer of the Hepatitis song that has stuck in my head for over thirty years.
I lay down and squeeze twenty separate little Refresh Plus lubricant eye drops into my eye, sure that the next one is gonna get it out. Nothing. I think about asking the girls to lay their hands on my eye and pray for it. Lord, please help Momma's eye not be sick. I don't want to have Hepatitis. I like the fact that the whites of my eyes are white. But I can feel myself resigning, adapting to my new life. The new, grimy feeling my left eye now possesses. I can get used to this. What's a little poop in the eye?
At some point, around dinner time, I realize that I can't feel the cat litter pebble anymore. Praise the Lord & Hallelujah my eye has been saved! I'm gonna liiiive! Two seconds later it occurs to me that it is either pushed back further into my eye, embedding itself, or maybe dissolved. This process does not help my hypochondriac mind.
Don't be alarmed the next time you see me if my skin has a little yellow tinge to it. That's just the Hepatitis. And please leave a comment about what you think about my new blinged out eye patch. I'm thinking pink diamonds.
Thanks for playing!