Saturday, August 05, 2006

One drop

I am a poor, poor thing. :(

I don't have a mirror in front of me now, but I don't need my reflection to reaffirm that my eyes are still bloodshot red.

Bloody eye infection. :(

I still don't have a clue how I contracted it, but all I knew was I woke up today with my eyes stuck shut, and after successfully unclamping my eyes, I looked straight into the mirror, and my disgustingly red eyes looked back at me. How evil I look, like a devil or a monster or or a jail convict or just a very unfresh fish (ha ha ha I still have a sense of humor).

Eunice said it's possible that it's conjuncitivitis, but besides the fact that my eyes are red, it doesn't itch nor swell, and neither do I tear... But either way, I am suspecting it's my contact lenses which caused all these shit. Scary stories of people becoming blind due to the usage of (unhygienic) lenses latched their evil claws onto me, and I am getting rather paranoid that I will soon become a blind bat.

:( :( :(

Call me drama queen.

Besides becoming a total recluse on my room today (god forbid me to run around looking like Satan's best friend. Ugh.), and furiously dripping eyedrops into my traiterous eyes (you are NOT supposed to make me look ugly. Now I can't even wear contacts!), memories of the last time I had conjunctivitis has grazed me today. I was only in kindergarden then, and somehow and someway, my best friend back in my nursery days whom I was attached to at the hips passed it to me. The funny thing was, the chain effect theory actually stated that I had to pass it to everyone in my family. Within a week, everyone under the same roof as me were rubbing at their eyes with a shade that Christina Aguilera will proudly wear on her lips now. Including my invincible doctor dad, who had to take medical leave; my fierce grandpa, who needed my my granny to nag him not to rub his eyes like a five year old; my then annoying sisters, whom I'd threaten that I'd make their eyes even redder (when you are six, grammar is not of importance) if they did not listen to me...

I felt so powerful. :P

Of course, I also remember how I did not need to even lift a finger to drip drops in my eyes. Someone will always be there, softly ordering me to keep my eyes open while the drops are being squeezed out, how much I dreaded the exact moment the drop will make a splosh into my eye, the coldness and the shock that I could never brace myself enough for, hence forcing my eyes to instantly shut close, squeezing out the excess liquid through the corner of my eyes. How a tissue is always readily pressed softly against my cheeks to capture the moisture, and the gentle nagging that followed which warned me not to run my eyes. How I'd close my eyes after that, to allow for the eyedrops to work their magic, and if my mom was there, I'd feel fingers stroking my hair, and the lingering soft perfume scent that follows my mom around.

Now, I alone stare at the nozzle of my eyedrops as it loomed menacingly above my vulnerable eyeball, as I look back at the obstinate drop of aqueous that refuses to fall from the tip; the forcing squeeze I give the bottle, and the same thing that happens, it dropping straight into my eye with a gentle splash, and I still shut my eyes in shock, the liquid trickling down the side of my face. But this time, I am the one who brushes away the tear-like trickle. I am the one who reminds myself repeatedly to use the drops again four hours later. Me, being the one who berates myself to not rub my eye, or even let my hands to make contact with my eyes. And I have no one to blame if I poke myself in the eye with the stupid nozzle, yeeoooww!!!

How funny, that a drop of liquid can tell me, I am a big girl now.