It’s always a novelty when I get to go into hospital with something other than an impending psychotic episode. When I was younger, I was always in and out of the building with my mom and dad for their various long-term problems, so when I had to go into A&E for a sudden attack of angioedema (thanks to my problematic, overactive skin) even Mom had to laugh at someone other than herself being the patient. I laughed too, through my puffed up lips anyway. This was months before my solo overnight stay after taking an overdose, so there was some lightheartedness to be found at the situation.
Since then (excluding BPD-related events), I’ve been in hospital for a very nasty bout of gastroenteritis caused by the sociopath manager at my last job and a concussion I gave myself from bouncing my head off the wall when I got back into bed one morning. Yes, that happened. And yes, Husband had a whale of a time telling people about it. I am terribly accident prone, but in the most bizarre ways. I used to fall down our stairs in our old home multiple times a month, I’ve banged my head so many times it’s a small miracle that I’m not already blind from my retinas being detached, and the less said about the Veet incident, the better.
How did I end up in hospital this weekend then? On Saturday, Husband decided to take us to the garden centre in the middle of nowhere for a nice afternoon wander and some lunch (and a chance for him to catch some more Pokemon… yes, he’s playing Pokemon Go as well as everyone else I know!) so I got myself ready as normal. As I was doing my make-up, I jabbed myself quite hard in my eye with the plastic mascara wand, which hurt like hell and caused my eye to water for a short while. After it subsided, I finished getting ready, we went out and had a lovely day and came home. I took my make-up off as normal before bed, and found my eye stinging once again, but I figured it was just sore still from the morning and went to sleep.
Well, sleep is a strong word. I spent most of the night tossing and turning until the pain was too much and I woke up at 5am to check my eye out in the mirror. Needless to say, it didn’t look pretty. It was swollen, bright red, gunked up and really painful. My Husband will tell you that I very rarely agree to go the hospital as my parents drilled it into me that wasting people’s time by going was worse than whatever consequences may follow. A lesson that failed of course, as my dad’s reluctance to get treated caused him to die suddenly and my mom’s failure to notify anyone of her worsening health caused her to die suddenly too. But I was in pain and I didn’t want to lose my eye, so we got ready and went to A&E.
There were a few hours spent there, but Sunday mornings are much better times to be there rather than Saturday nights. We saw (and heard) a few drunken patrons still there from the night before. But with that in mind, I was seen pretty quickly which I was very grateful for as the pain was unbearable. A lovely nurse named Danny flushed my eye out before putting in some anesthetic drops and giving me some very strong painkillers. Another oddity from my childhood; I grew up being deathly afraid of having eye drops put in. I used to get frequent attacks of conjunctivitis and as such needed a lot of treatment, but this involved my parents physically pinning me down and holding my eye open to get drops in, usually screaming at me and telling me to ‘stop being so stupid.’ There would often be a game of hide-and-seek as well, where I would hide and hope they wouldn’t find me to torture me once again with the horrendous routine. Eventually they just settled on getting the doctor to give me ointment instead, which would be applied to my inner eyelid and caused much less stress.
When we saw the doctor, he once again numbed my eye and put some fluorescent dye on my eyeball as he reckoned I had something stuck in my eye that was causing the pain. Lo and behold, there was indeed some dust that had found it’s way into being embedded in my eye where I had previously jabbed myself. This corneal abrasion was the source of my discomfort and pain, so with a few more jabs of a cotton bud, he got the debris out of my eye and prescribed me some ointment to ward off infection and soften up any other particles still stuck in my eye. Husband treated us both to breakfast at Frankie and Benny’s before we went home and he put me to bed. It’s Tuesday now and my eye seems pretty much back to normal.
My life is not just mental health – my physical health always seems pretty peachy until I cause myself an injury or three! I’m avoiding eye make-up for the week, just to be on the safe side at least. I’m just glad that I don’t have to rock the pirate look permanently. Well, glad and a little sad at the same time. I’d make an awesome pirate…