So I have this thing where the medicine I take for various maladies gives me the worst dry mouth ever. Like, I just sucked down a full bowl and there is no beer left at this party dry mouth, but without the fun. Also, with no other pleasant side effects except a significant lack of my brand of crazy. Which is the point of the medication.
Anyhoodle, that dry mouth thing has now been extended to dry eyeballs. Yes, desert dry eyeballs. Painful, gritty, red–I fully expect a mini Ben Stein to show up on my shoulder any day now. This leads to my problem. I CANNOT put eye drops in. I have to basically close my eye around my nozzle and force myself to squeeze the bottle to get anything accomplished, which is messy and causes further unpleasantness.
I was at work bemoaning my lack of eye drops when my boss gallantly offered his. The man is a walking medicine closet and I love it. I take advantage. For holiday he is getting a bunch of pain pills and Sudifed to replace what I have taken throughout the year. However, in this case I could not partake because (as stated above) I basically have to be eyeball on nozzle or it does not work.
This is where the man ascends to God-like status or at least better than average bear status. He offers to put them in for me! He does it for his kid all the time, no worries. Cool! Except I can’t do it. Blinkage and shrinking away and squirming like a caged animal and all that. He insists it will be all good. My eyes REALLY fucking hurt.
Which leads to me in one of his office chairs with my head resting on the back of it staring at the ceiling sans glasses and a peach blur holding a white blur directly above me. I am trying not blink, holding my eye open (except not, as it turned out) with my hands, trying not to squirm and SHRIEKING with laughter because, ridiculous. After a few tries he has now added his hand to the mix trying to claw an eyelid into a receptive position and is also laughing quite hard. Just when he is yelling “Keep your eye open, dammit!” and I am laughing shrieking I can’t and the entire thing is starting to look like a scene from the set up of Clockwork Orange, our big boss walks in and asks just what the heck is going on.
Well, my boss is savaging me with eye drops and I am shrieking like a banshee. Oh, that report you need? Yeah, I will get right on that.
There really is no recovery of the day after that happens. Trust me.