Husbands can be a real pain in the ass. Especially when it comes to when they aren’t feeling particularly well. Granted, waking up with a swollen, oozing right eye would put most men in a bad moood.
Cranky pants. Sure, it freaked me out and so I insisted on taking him to the urgent care and sticking with him (correcting the info he was giving the doctor because my man? He is a hyperbole spouting maniac when he’s not feeling top a’ the world.) (Actually, he’s like that most of the time.)
Where was I?
Oh, yeah, sticking with him as the doctor peers into his eyes, lifts his eyelid, puts in this bright yellow gunk, shines a light, washes the eye ball…and makes an appointment with an eye specialist for him.
We had time to go have lunch and walk the dog. Then back to the new eye doctor.
Wow, what a day!
Result…something foreign got into his eye last night. And his eye didn’t like it. It repelled the invader but still wasn’t happy about said invader being there, so it threw an allergic fit. He has eyedrops and was told to change his pillowcase, towel, washcloth… (all things I do regularly and don’t tell me I should do his also! He’s an adult, and he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.)
Okay, I may be a bit cranky, too.
My Thursday…what a day!