I have never had a branch or knife gouge through my eye, but I would imagine the pain is very similar to what I have felt each year in February since moving to this cracker-box house in West Valley. Apparently I had posted a few posts to my blog the first year I had it. And I know I was driving. This year I am in such awe that I was able to do it.
Each year the pain has been worse than the last, and each year I have believed that death would be more preferable to the pain. Because hey, once my spirit and body separate, I wouldn’t be able to experience the physical pain.
That first year I felt like a drug guinea pig. Although the first drug issued was in December, but I had not posted the traumatic effects until February when the sinus pressure built up again. I don’t know why I am so unfortunate to have this experience EVERY YEAR. Enough is enough already (and I have had more than enough – thank you very much)
Worse than the pain is my distorted mind. I feel so disconnected to my brain. Last Sunday I did not attend Church for I knew that I would not get much (if anything) out of the meetings.
On Monday I went to a health clinic. I told them which drug works best for me, and I got a prescription. The packaging had changed and I’m guessing the formula did too. It was after taking the meds that I felt worse. I knew that the excruciating pain was due to the meds working to clear out the gunk. I didn’t have dairy products or take any other kind of medication so that I wouldn’t jeopardize it.
My eyelid and skin had surrounded my eye so that I was seeing the world through a slit. I’d have the TV on and Roland would always turn it off – believing that my eyes were closed. I didn’t realize how bad it looked until I went to put some eye drops in my eye. It appeared that I had been stabbed by something or that a blood vessel had broken. It was ugly – perhaps grotesque.
The next night the pain resembled that of a toothpick, and finally only a speck of dust which couldn't be removed. Gradually the dark red faded into my natural white.
I wrote a letter to Corey. It took me three hours just to sort my thoughts. If I read anything or write anything, it has got to be in a 24 font or higher. It took me three hours to type up the letter and then the computer refused to save it and kicked me out of the system.
I cried. I took the thumb to a different computer to see if anything was saved. While I was waiting for the windows to open, I received a call from Harold’s daughter-in-law. She called to inform me that Harold is now on hospice. I was crying. But not about Harold. Harold’s passing is actually a good thing. I was still upset about the lost letter. But it turns out it saved more than I thought.
I had the lesson to give yesterday. Let me rephrase that. I was supposed to give the lesson. I had a few thoughts. Not 30 minutes worth however. I felt like a stone trying to keep myself propped up. I was in a trans. I would have been better off if I had stayed in bed. Perhaps my class would have, too.
It has been a week since I went to the doctor. I feel better today than yesterday and certainly better than last week. But not great still. I still have a pain behind my eye. But at least it’s not gouging. It’s irritating. But at least I can think more clearly than I could just yesterday or when I typed up Corey’s letter. I miss him a lot.
I'm sorry that Roland says he is not feeling well, and I hope he isn't getting this same sinus infection that I have/had. There are few people I would wish this pain upon: Hitler, Bin Laden, those who caused such horrible pain would still not experience the pain they caused. But it would be a good start I suppose.
I’m grateful to those who are skilled in medicine and are able to create potions to put inside of little pills so that we might feel better. How horrible it would be if we had to endure such pain without medicine.