La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
During the night Friday, I got up to pee (aren’t you happy to know that?), peeked at myself in the mirror (I have no idea why), and saw my right eye had exploded. It does that every so often. A bit more often than I’d like. And it’s been doing it (mostly just the right eye) for a long time. At least 20 years.
I had an appointment with the optometrist Saturday morning, so she took a look at it. The first thing she said was, if it were eye related, it wouldn’t look like that. She tested my eye pressure. It was perfect. She said, usually it’s blood pressure related and told me to go to the pharmacy and have it tested. She printed my results because she said invariably someone there would tell me it’s my eye pressure. She was right. And he didn’t believe me until he saw the printout. I like all the staff at the pharmacy except this one guy and, of course, who do I usually get? From now on, I’m going to wait for the next one. So I had my blood pressure tested. 119/75. Nothing wrong with that. As always, the eye is much better today and will probably be fine tomorrow. I have an appointment with my doctor in a few weeks and will make an appointment with my opthalmologist.
I dropped a pot lid. But I have lightning-quick reflexes and caught it mid-air. First I caught it on my finger, then on my wrist, and finally in my hand. What coordination! I wonder if I should do a weekly injury/accident report. You know, like Throwback Thursday. I could do Wounded Wednesday. Or Trauma Tuesday.
Oh, when I told SG I was going to have the optometrist look at my eye problem, he asked, “The thing under your eye?” I said, “No. The bloodshot. What thing under my eye?” He pointed. “That’s the scar from when I was hit in the eye with a baseball bat when I was 7!” I’ve commented on how self-conscious it can make me. It still gets puffy, especially when I’m tired, and looks like I’ve just been punched. He’s always said he doesn’t even notice it. Groan.
Durante la noche del viernes, me levanté a orinar (¿no te alegra saber eso?), me miré en el espejo (no tengo idea de por qué) y vi que mi ojo derecho había explotado. Lo hace cada cierto tiempo. Un poco más a menudo de lo que me gustaría. Y lo ha estado haciendo (principalmente solo en el ojo derecho) durante mucho tiempo. Por lo menos 20 años.
Tenía una cita con la optometrista el sábado por la mañana, así que lo miró. Lo primero que dijo fue, si estuviera relacionado con los ojos, no se vería así. Ella probó mi presión ocular. Fue perfecto. Ella dijo que generalmente está relacionado con la presión arterial y me dijo que fuera a la farmacia y me hiciera una prueba. Ella imprimió mis resultados porque dijo que invariablemente alguien allí me diría que es mi presión ocular. Ella tenía razón. Y no me creyó hasta que vio la copia impresa. Me gusta todo el personal de la farmacia excepto este tipo y, por supuesto, ¿a quién suelo buscar? De ahora en adelante, voy a esperar al siguiente. Así que me hice una prueba de presión arterial. 119/75. Como siempre, el ojo es mucho mejor hoy y probablemente estará bien mañana. Tengo una cita con mi médico en unas semanas y haré una cita con mi oftalmólogo.
Se me cayó la tapa de una olla. Pero tengo reflejos rápidos como un rayo y lo atrapé en el aire. Primero lo atrapé en mi dedo, luego en mi muñeca y finalmente en mi mano. ¡Qué coordinación! Me pregunto si debería hacer un informe semanal de lesiones/accidentes. Ya sabes, como Throwback Thursday. Podría hacer el miércoles herido. O el martes de trauma.
Oh, cuando le dije a SG que iba a hacer que el optometrista revisara mi problema ocular, me preguntó: “¿Lo que está debajo de tu ojo?” Dije que no. El inyectado de sangre. ¿Qué cosa debajo de mi ojo? El Señaló. “Esa es la cicatriz de cuando me golpearon en el ojo con un bate de béisbol cuando tenía 7 años”! He comentado lo cohibido que me puede hacer. Todavía se hincha, especialmente cuando estoy cansada, y parece que me acaban de dar un puñetazo. Siempre ha dicho que ni siquiera se da cuenta. Gemido.
30 thoughts on “Herd of moose, lid of pot, and red eye / Manada de alces, tapa de olla, y ojo rojo”
This blog is turning into a medical training manual 🤣 Jx
I’m all about education.
This eye condition look very familiar to me. I got those occasionally a well. \my dad also had these so I suspect it may be genetic or at least the predisposition to have them. Did either of your parents have these that you remember?
Tiny blood vessels burst due to maybe BP or in my case dry eyes. So I put in eye drops daily to keep things moist. And it appears this works for me as I haven’t had this happen in while.
I don’t know if my parents had the same problem. I do have dry eyes as well as eye allergies, and I’ve got drops for both. Doesn’t seem to make a difference.
I like trauma Tuesday. There is a theme here you should avoid kitchens and baseball.
My only concern is that if I make a weekly commitment, I’ll feel pressure to have a weekly accident and, believe it or not, I actually skip some weeks.
Yikes! Hoping the eye thing just… goes away?
It’s already much less obvious.
When I read your health report blog, I think of Voltaire. Who when he was asked how he was doing health wise would say; Oh you find be dying. He did that routine for 25 years. LOL!! Take care.
Like my grandmother. We visited her every Sunday from my early childhood. Every Sunday when we left (from the time I could speak), I would say, “See you next week, Grandma.” Her reply was “God willing.” God was willing for 30 years of my life.
Ouch., my eye!!! Sympathy pains.
I love SG.
The eye is much better. Yeah, SG. Gotta love him.
Impressive juggling skills with that pot lid!
I thought so.
You scared me when you said your eye “exploded.” I was imagining something much more splattery. I’ve heard those burst blood vessels sometimes just happen and there is no apparent cause.
Yay for reflexes! Boo for bruises!
When I was working, I could often connect the burst blood vessels with stress, although that may have just been a coincidence.
You go, Misha!
Where were you all those years ago when I wanted a nickname. Now, it’s too late to introduce myself as Scoot or Misha. Anyway, SG would still have ended up calling me Mitchell.
Hey, hon, you tossed the Scoot ball out there on this blog; I just picked it up and ran with it! As for Misha, that was you too. I called you Baryshnikov, you made the connection. I love calling you Scoot because it’s cute. Mitchell is a perfectly nice strong name. One of my favorites. SG can call you anything he wants; Balder Half is taken though. I’m sticking with Scoot because that’s how I think of you now. I trust that you will tell me when to knock it off 🙂
As I’ve said before, I love the nickname Scoot and wish it had come up when I was a kid!
Oh, Mitchell, if you haven’t bought stock in first-aid companies, you should!
I should have gotten in when I was young.
Oh dear. I agree with my gin blossom Jon…it’s a having a walking medical encyclopedia at my fingertips.
And with exceptional illustrations!
I made it through all of yesterday with no new injuries to report.
At the rate you’re going, a weekly injury report might be in order. I’m no doctor but could the recurring exploding eye have something to do with that baseball bat childhood injury.
I never thought of that regarding the baseball bat. But you’d think a professional would have noticed some kind of damage. I’ll show my ophthalmologist the photo and see what he says… after he stops laughing.
You had me at I got up to pee.
Hope your eye is better!
The eye was better within a day or two. Just waiting for next time.