And the Award for World's Most Asstarded Moment Goes To....
Tuesday, Jun. 21, 2005, 6:55 p.m.

Keep your fingers crossed. I don't know if I'll win, but shee-it, if I won't give the contender a run for their money:

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Yesterday, I had nastamuck-eye and went to le clinic doctor who, unconvincingly, told me he thought I had pink eye. Gave me eyedrop shimmy sham, told me to take out my contacts, and you know, don't make eyes with anyone. It may be important to note that I haven't worn my glasses in approximately 52 years so it took my eyes some time adjusting back to the frames.

Anyhow, this am, it appears that the Funky Col' Medina showed up in the other eye as well so I have been periodically putting drops in them both. The focker drops sting a wee bit, but after *Blink...blinkblink* my eyes would eventually get back to normal focus. After the third time of putting drops in my eyes, I began to notice that Holy Shit! I can't see. I mean, I can see up close, but I can't see across the damn room. I begin walking around the house and realizing I could see nothing with any detail whatsoever. So, first it spreads to the other eye, and now my vision is blurring by the moment.

*Montage Caused By Impending Blindness*

Cut to six months ago, my cousin Lauren shows up at my door half-crying because she thinks she's losing her sight. She's worn her contacts for a week straight and now that she finally took them out, she can't see at all. I tell her, "No problem! I've left mine in for MONTHS before. Just let your eyes breathe a little bit. They'll be fine...." Despite my sound advice, the next day she goes to the Ophthalmologist. He tells her, "Thank God you came in to see me!! You have a horrible infection in your eyes. In fact, I had a 19-year-old girl last year lose her sight completely after only 72 hours because she didn't get it checked out in time. It's scary, but this can actually happen quite easily when people leave their contacts in for too long...."

Cut to me going and looking at the expiration date on my contacts to try and figure retroactively when I might have last changed my contacts.

Cut to two weeks ago, seeing my cousin Lauren once again at our family reunion, and her asking me if I'm taking better care of my eyes (she's 20, peoples) and me, laughing, "Uhhh, I don't think I brought my contact case with me this week...."

Cut to rapid clip succession of Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, Heller Keller, Marlee Maitlin. Oh, Hell, throw some deaf people in there, too. These are all my disabled brethren, man.

*End Montage*

I immediately call up my primary doctor, tell her the deets, and she says to me, "Look, you don't want to fool around with this. We need to get you to an ophthalmologist right away. If we can't, you need to go to the Emergency Room."

And....Full-On Panic stage left.

I call up Matt at work, and HOMYGAHHOMYGAHHOMYGAH. Are. You Listening??? I'm losing my fucking sight, man. My sight! I call both my insurances, double-fisting my house phone and my cell phone, goddamit, and rushrushrush, they get me in to see an ophthalmologist this afternoon, Praise Allah and his sidekick, J.C.! Matt cancels three appointments and hurries home to drive me to said doktor, seeing as I'm now mostly blind.

We wait for a lifetime to see the doctor, and at long, loooooooong last, she runs fife thousant tests. It appears that it wasn't just my imagination. My fucking eyesight is THREE TO FOUR TIMES WORSE than my glasses. I can't even see the big goddamned E on the first line of the chart with my glasses on, and I'm telling you, sweat is running down my crack. What the fuck am I going to do all blind and shit? Fuck! Fuck, man! This shit came on me all sudden-like, it's not like I had time to prepare. See my last sunset, look into my lover's eyes, drink up the colors flashing all about me. Jesus! I'm blind! And then the doctor tells us--The Good News and The Bad.

The Good News: I don't have a nasty eye infection (besides pink eye) that would cause me to lose my sight. Sweet Sassy Molassy! (cue background music: What a Wonderful World) I'll be able to see, man! Seeeeeeeeee. Red Roses, too...I see them bloom, for me and for you.

The Bad News: There is obviously something seriously wrong with me that my eyesight would get so bad (and it wasn't great to start) virtually overnight. I mean, really, within just a few hours. The only possibility that she can suggest is that I have The Diabetes. And she is so very concerned with this possibility and how bad my eyesight is that I must RUN! Don't Walk. To the nearest Emergency Room and get my blood sugar checked immediately. *Diabetes Montage: Cut to fist-sized brownie being shoved into gullet last night. Swallowed nearly whole. Annnnnnd cut. To Count Chocula for breakfast. Two bowls.*

Snapped out of montage by doctor handing me my glasses and telling me, "Really. You should go now." I'm starting to tear up. Oh chocolate, you dirty little lover, why did you cut me like this? I put on my glasses and start to get up to go to the hospital when Matt says, "Wait. Wait a minute. Wait a goddamned minute. Are you wearing my glasses?" Ummmmmmmm. Meep? Doctor: "You REALLY should go now."

And....fade to black.
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We're counting on your votes. Please don't let us down.

I have so much to catch up on and so little time, so mebe tomorrow? Oh, I'll be back, bitches, when I'm done making an ass out of myself all over town. It's quite a project, but surely, I'm up to it.