Now, for those of you who either haven't seen me awhile (most of you) or have never met me (im not sure this group exists . . .  yet), you would not know that i have been battling a very irritable set of eyes.  Most recently, my right eye has decided that it would rather be red, itchy, and puffy around the cornea (oh and blurry), rather than white, not-itchy, and not puffy (oh, and be able to see).  At worst it has looked like this:
[What a brilliant first pic of myself for my blog).

These ailments have sent me to all 4 eye doctors in the Pioneer Valley.  They all were no help at all, treating my symptoms in order to relieve the pain, and get me out of their office.  But the symptoms were just that, symptoms of a larger problem, which was not being treated.  So it came back.  Again and again.  Now i drive an hour to Longmeadow to see another doctor whom i like.

Anyways, on a related note, one of my greatest fears in the world is having something driven through my eye.  Even typing that sentence almost made me vomit.  It's not so much touching my eye (i had contacts for years) as it is something going through it. 

Today, in order to make my eyes less dry, the doctor decided to put a "stint" in my eye.  Now, to me, a "stint" sounds like a small rodent, or something that holds other things together.  Either way, it has a very unimposing feel to it.  It lies to us.  It is a small piece of  of plastic (special disintegrating plastic) about a 3/4th of an inch long and with the diameter of about the middle of a sewing needle.  The doctor took this, lets call it a needle, and jammed it into my lower tear drainage duct.  Excuse me?  What happened to you today?  Your worst fear, in plastic form, was realized?  And no one even gave me a lollipop afterward, or felt sorry for me.  No.  I drove the hour home.  Poor me.  Wah wah.

To end on a positive note, here is an unrelated, but hilarious (and embarrassing) story:

When I got home today, after I put dinner from a Northampton Thai place (which i had brought home) on the kitchen counter, i went to close the front door.  As i was closing the door, i noticed the delivery guy from the (very) nearby pizza and sub joint on our porch, pizza in hand.  I looked at him confused.  He was on his cell at the time and as we locked eyes i hear him say, "Oh, wrong house, i misread the number."  Now, what he would have said, were he being completely truthful would be, "I saw an address around this general area, and just figured it was you guys since you are the only people who live this close who order delivery (all the time)."  He had come to our house reflexively.  Now my first reaction was uncontrolled booming laughter.  I mean booming.  My landlord and her daughter even came to the door (we live in an in-law apartment with opposing front doors) to see what was happening.  I told the pizza guy that he had just made my day.  hilarious.  Then i sat down and thought about it.  How sad.  Reflexively.  Sheesh.  Guess it's time to take a break from ordering from that place for awhile.  (But they can still bring me pizzas if they want.