Wacko and Yacko say, "Hellllllo, Nurse!"

Too bad I don't have an Animaniacs icon. Welllll, I know I could get one, but....

Anyway, the point is that today I was visited by Nurse John. After we both scrubbed up (hee), I handed him the ridiculously small bottle. I sat in my office chair and he sat on the bed. And he actually got the drops (remember, only one per) into each eye. The drops didn't really sting, but my eyes felt sluggish. And I tried to keep them closed while we chatted.

While he was here, I went on the 'net and looked up other treatment methods. Because, let's face it, he may be able to come down to administer the meds around 9 p.m. for a two-week period but ... it's just not a solution for the Rest. Of. My. Life (which appears to be the conventional regimen for reducing the pressure within the eye). There are laser surgery options and, as I'm such an old hand at surgery, I'm no longer as squicked out. Besides, as I said, I can't and shouldn't have to rely on him 365 days of the year. And my eyes and hands are NOT up to the task. [Yes, no kidding!] So I'm sure I'll be having a fascinating conversation with my doctor in two weeks' time.

Other than that, the only other news was an e-mail from my dying friend to tell his friends that he has been admitted to a hospice. As much as I moan and groan about my problems, at least I'm ancient and decrepit. And I'm not losing my life. ::screams noiselessly against the unfairness of it all:: I'm still going to try to send him a weekly e-mail, as there will be someone reading them to him. Well, it'll be up to Pirate Bob to try to put a glimmer of a smile on his face.

Anyway, it's almost midnight and my dinner (!) is ready to come out of the oven.
Hungry hugs,
H.

Wacko and Yacko say, "Hellllllo, Nurse!"

Too bad I don't have an Animaniacs icon. Welllll, I know I could get one, but....

Anyway, the point is that today I was visited by Nurse John. After we both scrubbed up (hee), I handed him the ridiculously small bottle. I sat in my office chair and he sat on the bed. And he actually got the drops (remember, only one per) into each eye. The drops didn't really sting, but my eyes felt sluggish. And I tried to keep them closed while we chatted.

While he was here, I went on the 'net and looked up other treatment methods. Because, let's face it, he may be able to come down to administer the meds around 9 p.m. for a two-week period but ... it's just not a solution for the Rest. Of. My. Life (which appears to be the conventional regimen for reducing the pressure within the eye). There are laser surgery options and, as I'm such an old hand at surgery, I'm no longer as squicked out. Besides, as I said, I can't and shouldn't have to rely on him 365 days of the year. And my eyes and hands are NOT up to the task. [Yes, no kidding!] So I'm sure I'll be having a fascinating conversation with my doctor in two weeks' time.

Other than that, the only other news was an e-mail from my dying friend to tell his friends that he has been admitted to a hospice. As much as I moan and groan about my problems, at least I'm ancient and decrepit. And I'm not losing my life. ::screams noiselessly against the unfairness of it all:: I'm still going to try to send him a weekly e-mail, as there will be someone reading them to him. Well, it'll be up to Pirate Bob to try to put a glimmer of a smile on his face.

Anyway, it's almost midnight and my dinner (!) is ready to come out of the oven.
Hungry hugs,
H.