EYE EYE AGAIN

As if setting off for the North Pole, I donned hat, scarf and warmly-lined wellington boots. Obviously there was appropriate clothing in between. Mr A donned jaunty fur hat, scarf and strong walking boots. Obviously he too wore appropriate clothing in between. Our intrepid daughter drove through the lumpy icy snow and took us to the mainline station where we caught the train to London and trudged through puddles, slush, foreign tourists, Christmas market stalls and freezing-cold entertainers to St Thomas's Hospital.

The reason for the hasty trip was that my eye, operated on seven weeks ago, had developed a worrying scratchy pain, as if something was in it. I had thought I was out of the woods, but now a blooming great tree had loomed up. Well, more like a bit of grit actually, but I'm keeping the metaphor going. 

After the initial assessment in the Eye Drop-in Clinic - no I'm not going to make any obvious jokes - I was examined by a female doctor and this is how the conversation went:-

She: You have a yellow cyst under the top eyelid and that is what is causing the discomfort. It should disperse by itself but bathe it with hot water.

Me: Oh, I've been doing it with cold water but I'll ...

She (cutting in): Okay, do it with cold water.

As she spoke, the gritty pain was intensifying and I spoke my thoughts out loud.

Me: I feel as if an oily antibiotic would make it feel ...

She (cutting in again): Okay, if that's how you feel, that's what you need.

Me: But, but ... it's what you say ...

She (taking up a pen): I'll write out a prescription for an antibiotic ointment.

By then, my other eye was feeling scratchy.

Me: Can I put it in the other eye too.

She: If that's what you need, yes, put it in both eyes.

If I'd had my wits about me, I'd have said my navel was feeling scratchy so could I put it in there too. Also my ears and other orifices, some of them quite rude. There was no end to the fun I could have had. But, of course, I said nothing, being very grateful that the eye problem was nothing to do with the surgery and that my retina and other eye components had remained firmly in place.

Mr A and I bounced off to the Pharmacy Department with a spring in our booted feet and relief in our hearts. At least I'm assuming that Mr A's springy steps weren't merely to rush to a table to gobble our packed lunch and to battle with six across in the cryptic crossword that had so far eluded us.