April 13, 2009
Funny story to tell you… This actually happened a week ago, but I just got the green light to share (…for such an outgoing person, S is remarkably private).
Last Saturday, S and his brother were repairing a rock wall in our yard and towards the end of the project started to get a bit giddy. Cement ended up flying everywhere, and in the midst of it all, S felt a bit of cement hit his eye. It didn’t hurt, so S assumed that it had hit his eyelid and didn’t think anything of it. (He didn’t even tell either of us that it had happened.)
That night, I went to bed and S stayed up late to watch Braveheart. When I woke up the next morning around 6:30 – my usual time to feed the dog, etc. – I noticed that S wasn’t in bed next to me. That was not usual – Sundays are S’s day to sleep in, and it usually takes a bomb and the bribe of breakfast in bed to even get him to open his eyes. 😉 S finally comes in to the bedroom and asks me to look at his eye and see if I can see anything in it. Finally, the story comes out.
Apparently when he came to bed the night before, he got a searing pain in his right eye whenever he closed his eyes. This is the best part though – instead of waking me up and telling me he was in pain – he remembered the cement incident and decided that in case he was going to go blind, he’d take an extra look at me and give me an extra kiss, and then just went to bed anyways!! I don’t think I’ll ever understand men…
So then we spent Sunday morning arguing about whether or not S needed to go to the ER, which culminated in him trying to put on my pink and white sneakers, and sheepishly muttering, “Wow, S, that really doesn’t help your cause.” LOL!
Once we got there, the ER doctor confirmed that there was a “foreign object” in S’s eye. He stepped out for a moment, and S asks me “why doesn’t he call it a native object? I got it in our yard…” I burst into laughter and then had to explain that no, he didn’t call it a foreign object because S is from Ireland, that if it doesn’t belong in your eye or body, etc. that it’s called “foreign.” S has a great sense of humor and was able to laugh at himself, which definitely cut the tension before what happened next.
After trying unsuccessfully to remove it using a cotton swab, the doctor leaned out the door and called to a nurse, asking for the “eye drill.” S’s eyes bugged out of his head and all I could think was, “Love you honey, but better you than me!” The eye drill ended up being a little tool that looked like a cross between a penlight and a vibrating toothbrush, but with big ‘ole needle on the end of it! Thank god S’s eye was numbed, he didn’t even feel the “foreign object” being removed.
We were discharged with some drops and cream and told to follow up if it still bothered him. S was thrilled, not because his eye felt better (which it did), but because they didn’t send him home with an eye patch to wear. LOL!! Although he is under strict instructions to wear goggles during ALL projects from now on… 😉