Well, I had hoped that my 200TH post would be a little more profound than this is likely to be; but, I figure if I don't start cranking out the free ice cream again soon, y'all just might go get your fix elsewhere. So, where has Waldo been lately? When we last checked in on our hero, he was overcome by the emotion of having been accepted to law school. Much, as they say, has transpired since last we spoke.
I spent the remainder of the week following receipt of my acceptance to law school in a giddy daze. I did go see my youngest niece's orchestra concert that evening which was enjoyable even though it resulted in one of those "When I was your age"/"Your tax dollars at work" moments. The concert was held in the cafeteria/auditorium of my niece's middle school. As I perused my surroundings while waiting for my niece's orchestra to get to the stage (her's was the last of four different groups), I noticed that the cafeteria was not the style of school cafeteria to which I was accustomed when I was in school. In fact, it looked more like the food court at the mall. You had separate counters for burgers, pizza, fried chicken, and plate lunches in addition to the candy/snacks/bakery counter. When did this start happening??? When I was in middle school, what they were serving in the SINGLE lunch line was IT. If you didn't like it, you were out of luck. Kids have it so easy today. No adversity to face. They don't have to learn how to suck it up and take it...whatever it is.
Moving on, two days later, my great uncle (mom's dad's younger brother) passed away at the age of 82. His health had been in decline for the last 10 years or so following a motorcycle accident. His memorial service took place over Memorial Day weekend in the central Texas town where he had lived most of his life. I went with mom and my sister...the devil to go to the service which was held at the church where my great uncle had attended since he was a boy with my great grandparents. Funerals and memorial services are generally not fun events, and this was no exception. I do have to say this was probably the least coherent funeral service to which I've been. I'm not sure what a normal Church of Christ funeral service is supposed to be like, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't even close.
The memorial service also happened to coincide with my grandfather's (mom's dad) 90TH birthday which is somehow appropriate. According to mom, he's extremely proud of the fact that I've been accepted to law school even though he made no mention of such feelings to my face while we were there. I think he's just waiting until the ink is dry on my bar card so that he can ask me to sue someone for him. Personally, his pride and approval mean less to me than a warm bucket of spit; however, I can't completely turn my back on him. I have learned things from him, both good and bad, that make me who I am today, and I must grudgingly admit that he is a necessary component of my existence whether I like it or not. One of these days, I will have to explain my feelings about him in more detail to give you, my faithful readers, some idea of why I want to be standing behind him when he stands before God. If I could sell tickets to that event, I would.
That brings us to the next reason why I've been AWOL the last week or two. A week ago Friday, I was snuggling up next to The Queen in bed pulling the covers up when the covers stopped and my left hand didn't. My hand flew straight back into my face and impacted my left eyeball. I clearly remember my eyeball compressing, and I saw a ring of pretty blue and yellow stars in a pitch black room. I yelled but, in a shining moment in the ongoing development of my Christian character, didn't cuss. The Queen asked what happened; and, after being told, she started laughing at me. I eventually had to laugh to and said "It's all fun and games until someone punches their own eye out."
Now, a normal person would expect to wake up the next day to a black eye in the eye that was hit. Nope. Not me. I woke up the next day, and both eyes were perfectly normal. The day after that...not so much. That day, I woke up to discover that my RIGHT eye was completely red, painful to the touch, photo sensitive and would hurt when looking in certain directions. And, when I say hurt, I mean "feels like being stuck in the eye with an ice pick" hurt. Before you ask, yes, I am quite certain that it was my LEFT eye that was hit.
After things didn't get better after a couple of days, I made an appointment with the eye doctor. He pronounced the problem to be "iritis" which is inflammation of the iris. Basically, I sprained the muscles that control my iris. I was relieved that I had not detached the retina of something catastrophic. The doctor said that it's possible that the shock wave from the hit to the left eye went through the tissue and inflamed the right eye. Apparently, this is not unheard of in sports injuries.
The almost constant headache that went with this was the easiest part to deal with. Never knowing when the phantom ice pick would strike...that really kinda sucked. I did figure out that the change between near vision and far vision was especially painful and have worked to avoid that as much as possible. You really have no idea how much you move your eyes, how much focusing you do until you do something stupid like this. It completely wears you out mentally and physically. I've spent the last week or so being almost constantly exhausted because of my eye.
So, there you have it. More or less. Free ice cream to continue as my eye improves.