TBT #62: Things That Could be Wrong With My Eye

So I’m back in Ontario tonight. I flew home. On a plane. It was pretty badass. Planes are all pretty badass, when you think about it. It’s, like, here’s this giant hunk of metal filled with humans (who are filled with guts and blood and lungs) and all of it is literally defying the force of gravity as if it were nothing more than a 10 o’clock curfew enforced by parents who can’t stay awake through all of Everwood. And science cannot explain it! Sure, science has tried, with vague ideas of ‘lift’ and ‘drag’ but, honestly, that sort of stuff doesn’t make any real amount of sense. Because in the end it’s simply dozens of tonnes of machinery and metal hurtling through the sky above clouds which weigh significantly less. The very picture of absurdity!

But I digress.

Flying home today, I was listening to this Okkvervil River album that was actually pretty awesome and reading the new issue of Entertainment Weekly — which took all of a half hour because it was their stupid annual PHOTO issue — and generally enjoying the fact that I had TWO empty seats next to me. Everything was going pretty well for me until I suddenly developed a terrible pain in my right eye. Actually, I should put that in capital letters for emphasis; I developed a TERRIBLE PAIN IN MY RIGHT EYE. It was amazing! Because eyes don’t usually hurt, do they? Like, elbows hurt and knees hurt and sometimes stomachs hurt, but eyes? They’re usually pretty quiet. Up there all silent and unassuming, just doing their job. I try not to work them too hard. As long as they i) help me avoid raccoons while driving and b) identify any SEXINESS in the area around me, I am pretty satisfied.

But today, they were DIFFERENT. Today, they HURT. It was the worst thing ever!

Actually, only the one on the right hurt. The one on the left was fine. It continued performing its duties. Though it was a bit weird for a while because, as my right eye screamed in pain, my left eye seemed to be trying to look over at my right eye, as if it wanted to give him a disapproving look that would remind him to get back to work. Except your eyes cannot see each other (think about it). I didn’t have time to think too much about any of this, however, being distracted by the aforementioned TERRIBLE PAIN. It lasted a good 5 to 10 minutes, I’d say, during which time I tried not to make it look obvious that I wanted to yell profanities. At one point a lady across the aisle looked over at me, probably a bit concerned because I was kind of thrashing and blinking wildly, and I kind of shot back at her with that Jack Nicholson smile. You know the one I mean; it’s the one where Jack smiles really broadly in such a way that you know he’s thinking “I would punch you in the face if I was drunker.” I did that, and then she looked away.

The pain mostly subsided after that, though a dull ache remained (and I can still feel it now). For the rest of my flight I was too afraid to do anything. I had books to read, but I felt that, if I did read them, I might cause my eye further trauma. So I tried to rest him. This proved difficult, however, as my mind was busy at work processing together a list of things that could be wrong with me. It actually turned out to be quite an impressive list, especially considering what I don’t know about optometry could be loaded into a rocket and shot into the moon and leave a sizable crater on its surface. Sure, some of it may seem unscientific and — dare I say it — ridiculous, but please do not judge me. I bet if one of your eyes spazed out on a 787 aircraft high above the St. Lawrence River, YOU’D come up with an unscientific and ridiculous list, too.

Some possible diagnoses:

I burst a blood vessel

Look, I really don’t know what this means. I know it is something that can happen to people’s eyes but I am pretty sure it is an elderly person thing. But still, considering how much of my life is made-up of what some would refer to as “elderly-person” activities, I can’t rule it out entirely. Also, it just sounds bad! It’s a thing that is made up of two words that you never want to hear. “Blood” is obvious: it implies stabbing or maiming or a blood drive, I guess, and none of those things are on MY to-do list. “Vessel” is less obvious: it’s not intrinsically a negative word to hear. But, really, when was the last time you heard someone use it to describe something positive. Nobody ever says “We took a vessel to the candy factory.” Instead, they say “The astronauts piloting their vessel into the surface of the sun” or possibly “Satan used that girl as a vessel.”

Pros: Having bloody gunk in my eyes would give me an excuse to wear big Bono-style sunglasses and rock out; I think that eventually burst blood vessels become un-burst somehow; could be a convincing zombie for Halloween.
Cons: Girls would find it harder to get lost in my brilliant blue eyes as I pass them on the street; it is an elderly-person’s thing and I am only 21; possibly a Satanic ailment.

My eye is going to explode

As far as I know, unlike Exploding Head Syndrome, Exploding Eye Syndrome is not a real thing. At least, it’s not a real thing YET. These things have to start with somebody, right? I bet the first guy to get Gout had a real tough time convincing people he had Gout. Because he’d be all “Hey, I have Gout” but the doctors would be all “Bullshit. That’s not a real thing. You have the vapors.” And eventually he would get pissed off and be like “Look, Motherfuckers, I have Gout. It’s Gout! It’s new.” And the doctors would kick him out of their office because there was no profanity permitted in those days. The days of yore. In any case, when the pain was at its height, I was sure my eye was going to explode. I reasoned it had something to do with the cabin pressure. Maybe it was pressing on my right eye — squeezing on it, like a vice — and soon it was going to explode and make a big mess. It would be both horrifying and embarrassing.

Pros: I’d probably get a glass eye, allowing me to final get the newspaper headline I’ve been longing for all my life: “Local Man subdues fleeing purse snatcher by throwing glass eye at him”; when I have kids I could be like ‘be good, I’ll be keeping an EYE on you’ and then I could take my glass eye out and put it on the table in front of where they are playing, and then I could go and watch TV; they probably would give me discount fares on the airline I flew for LIFE.
Cons: I think I would break a lot of glass eyes, they seem fragile; lack of depth perception would severally hinder my ability to hit you with a ROUNDHOUSE KICK; any future nickname I get would probably be prefixed with “One-eye”.

My eye is trying to escape my head

Stay with me here. I’ve started to realize that my eyes have been seeing mostly the same thing, day after day, for a long time now. The same places, the same people, the same events — it is getting kind of repetitive! I am thinking that maybe my eye is just tired of all of this same-old same-old shit and would like to go off on his own, like a child leaving the nest, to find wealth and adventure into another land. And, you know, if this is the case, I wish him godspeed. Though I kind of wish he would take me with him. I have so much to offer a lonely eye in the world — things like hands and feet and the ability to vocalize my thoughts! We would be a great team, I think. It would be a very melancholy moment for me, watching my eye leave me like that.

Pros: All of that stuff about glass eyes would probably apply here too; you could also wear a patch and make jokes with punch-lines like “It was rated ARRRRR!” and “It’s driving me nuts!”; I bet my right-eye’s absence would improve my relationship with Left-Eye…
Cons: …Until, that is, Left-Eye is killed in an untimely automobile accident (hanging outside the passenger side of your best friend’s ride is never a good idea); I’d worry that my eye would run into trouble out in the big scary world, like maybe being used in a witch’s stew or perhaps as the model for the logo of a major television network.

I am going blind

And I don’t even do it THAT much! Haha — that was a little bit of humour for you folks. I did consider for a second during my ten minutes of pain that perhaps I am losing my site. Temporary blindness I could handle: it would make for a great story. “Dudes,” I’d say, “once I was blind.” And people would sit closer to me and listen. But permanent blindness? That’s a whole other thing. That would SUCK. Like, once I saw this movie where Bjork went blind and I was depressed for a month. I just cannot imagine what I would do with my time. I guess I’d have to learn to love talking to people. Or maybe move behind an old baseball field with my big angry dog and a room full of sports memorabilia.

Pros: I loved The Sandlot!; I would get to own a dog and that dog would come PRE-TRAINED. He would sit and stay and stuff without me having to spend days and weeks and months teaching him. The dog would be my best friend.
Cons: Sight is my all-time favourite sense; I would have nothing to look at; I’d have to touch people’s faces and I think my friends would take issue with my doing that; no more Mario Kart.

Conclusions

I really don’t know what to hope for here. I always took my right-eye for granted before today. I think the best I can do is make a solemn promise to both my readership and my right eye that I will appreciate him for all he does for me from this point forward. I promise to never again keep you up for 38-hours straight and to not even GLANCE at the next solar eclipse. And I will even put drops in you if you need it as much as I hate the idea of doing that! Also I will keep knives away from you as I know how much you hate knives. In fact, I hate them too! We should bond over that, right eye. You and me. Friends forever.

If worst comes to worst my secret plan is to go to the future and get replacement eyes from a drug dealer. And then to buy a sports almanac. And come back here. It’ll be great.

I’m Mister Brightside,
Matt