The Man with One Red Eye

(Act 1 / Scene Seen 1 - 10/31/12)  

You heard of ‘The Man with One Red Shoe,’ well, what about ‘The Man with One Red Eye?’  

Frank has been having to deal with some interesting health dilemmas.  Apparently he had a stroke in his eye.  I didn’t even know you could have a stroke in your eye?!  I suppose it makes sense.  Anywhere there are blood vessels a rupture can occur, so stroke it is.  

His eye looked strangely odd to me... of course, no one else could see what I saw.  I had no idea what I thought was wrong, only that his eyeball looked unevenly shaped and a bit more barren than the usual glazed look I get from my dear hubby.  Frank, being familiar with my ‘quirky intuitions,' made an appointment to see the eye doctor.

Ruptured vessels right over the retina... oh, great?!... vision loss as well.  So much for Frank's theory, ‘My eyes are just tired from being on the computer.’  The recommended treatment involved injecting medication directly into his eyeball, in the hopes of preventing the damaged blood vessels from forming a new network of capillaries over his retina... basically blinding him.  How’s that for Catch-22?!  Needle in the eye... blind... needle in the eye... blind.  Oh, joy...

We went to the follow-up appointment fully prepared to tell the snooty, aloof, curt doctor we were going to get a second opinion... after all, this seemed to warrant second opinions, right?!  However, after seeing the images taken of the retina, (Which, by the way, was awesome to witness!  While the camera was rolling, dye was injected into Frank's veins.  Seeing the blood flow - or lack thereof - in action was necessary to fully access the trauma) and the extent of the damage... and learning about time frames verses healing possibilities, the injection was the logical option.  Frank was not moved one way or the other about having to go thru this procedure.  (Is he ever?)  I on the other hand was moved.  In fact, I had nightmares for the next two nights, and days.  All I kept hearing was him scream as the needle went in - which he did for a brief second.  (Good grief... he was 'moved.')  Afterwards, of course, he says he didn’t scream... (Really?!  Who did the yell come out of?  Then again... it could very well have been the sound of my mind splitting in half at the very moment the needle went in... Why in God’s name did I look?!?)  The doctor counted down from ten as the contents of the needle was injected.  (Yesh... as if an auditory distraction was going to ‘help’ Frank deal with the process...)  Frank had to NOT MOVE during this phase.  He claims he only yelled because of the pressure he was feeling in his eye.  (Uh... okay...  W h a t!   E v e r!   I still had nightmares.)

The second visit I opted not to go.  If he was ‘fine’ with it... if he was going to be so nonchalant... so be it.  Why then, should I put myself thru unnecessary mental anguish?  Besides, this time they were going to inject an actual pellet of medication into his eye.  Oh joy... Apparently, the pellet is longer lasting and much more effective.   Bla, Bla, Bla!.... INJECT PELLET and EYE in the same sentence, is all I heard.... Sorry, Snookums... I’ll see you when you get back...  (Yes, I am a horrible wife... I’ll let you know when his next appointment is, so any of you can go with him... bring tissues.)  {Before anyone runs off thinking I’m too unwifely... I actually couldn’t go... Saturday mornings I have a class to attend, which is when Frank has been scheduling.}

Funny thing about this eye doctor... he fills you in on all the side effects after the procedure... like the fact that your eye ‘might’ bleed.  (This guy is supposed to be great in his field, however his bed-side-manner is non-existent questionable.)

Our very own Cyclops... 

I must say Frank has never been so hard to look at.  His vision improved enough for him to look in the mirror and shock even himself.  The first few days he wore sunglasses, but after the hurricane hit, he couldn’t be bothered.

Sandy added all sorts of interesting twists and turns, right in the middle of this medical saga.  Her path of destruction included our hallowed Halloween. (Now known as the Halloween that never happened for so many sad little gremlins and ghosts.  Families in our area were in pure survival mode, by no means in any position to deal with the antics of Trick or Treating.)   The bonus ‘fun’... we had our very own personal haunted house.  Frank successfully scared the crap out of us, without even trying.  We would stop thinking about it - or try to - and then catch a glimpse of his bloody orb and our bones would jolt and shake inside our skin.  The one and only group of trick-or-treaters that managed to knock on our door, got a real scary treat.  

Honey Boo Boo for Halloween ;)

The eyeball escapade continues.  Frank claims he feels better... he thinks his vision is improving...  time will tell.

Frank's eyeball saga...

Act 1 / Scene Seen 1 - The Man With One Red Eye

Act 1 / Scene Seen 2 - No More Yoda

Act 1 / Scene Seen 3 - Meet Mr. Potato Head 

Intermission - Getting Healthy Can Kill You! 

Act 1 / Scene Seen 4 - He's Fine

Be Famous Now

What would you do if I told you I was dying?    

 ...Would you blink?

What if I told you YOU were dying?   

   ...After you finish blinking, cause I know you did ~ Would you risk dreaming?

It's All Fleeting

(Written July 2005)

The air is thick and misted with salt from the ocean.  Heavy laden as it is, it is still cooler, much cooler, than inland.  The sun is just going down.  Colors of the sky deepen and get richer by the minute...almost seconds.  The sky somehow appears more dense.  A small plane passes over head.  I wave my arms in an over exaggerated ‘Hello,’ making the kids do the same.  From time to time, a pilot will wave back by rocking the planes wings side to side... it makes for an exhilarating moment.  Try as I might, I can’t get this pilot to return the greeting.

And Now A Word From God.

Years ago I copied this article from a magazine, wish I knew which one.  The copy is barely legible, sorely faded and tattered.  I took the time to retype it, still believing after all these years it is worthy of reposting and moreover of saving.  It falls, rather befittingly, into my overall aversion of organized religion and the unfortunate number of snakes that hide behind their white collars... 

Despite it all... I still find my ‘Self’ reaching beyond my humanly limits.  I know there is so much more than this... or any one of us.   And despite what anyone says, does, coerces or expects on ANY level, the bottom line is ~ My relationship with God is just that, Mine.  

As copied from - TO YOUR HEALTH  MAY/JUNE 1999 

And Now A Word From:  God ~ By “you know who”

My Dear Children (and believe Me, that’s each of you).

I consider Myself a pretty patient guy.  I mean, look at the Grand Canyon.  It took millions of years to get it right.  And how about evolution?  Boy, nothing is slower than designing that whole Darwinian thing to take place, cell by cell, and gene by gene.  

I’ve been patient through your fashions, civilizations, wars and schemes, and the countless ways you take Me for granted until you get yourselves into big trouble again and again.  I want to let you know about some of the things that are starting to tick Me off.

Fall is here

Two squirrels, with tails as fluffy and fat as can be, chase each other around a tree trunk.  Faster and faster they go... round and round, on that invisible Candy Cane pathway.

Their bodies elongated, outstretched, dart like, to gain speed advantage and nix any figurative and/or literal tailwinds. 

No doubt an acorn, or misplaced foraged nut, prompted this squabble.  Their raspy, barking, chatter-chat echoed all around the tree.  On one of those ‘orbits’ I must have been spotted, for each took refuge in an overhead limb, clicking their protests from behind the first of Autumns leaves.  

Fall is in the air.  A passing breeze, firmed the notion.  The tree released a few of its personal confetti, which pirouetted and danced its way to the ground below.   A mosaic carpet of what once was, laid at its foot.  

This is officially my favorite season.  The stains of Mother Earth bleeding out before mine eyes, in this artful living palette, magically embodies my soul.  I love it when she shows off!

The day Satan went nuts ...Church parishioners bare witness.

It's Sunday morning and the sermon has just concluded.  Pristine weather allowed the stain glass windows to remain open, and morning sun dutifully illuminated them against the buildings white exterior.   Many people are still sitting in the pews.. some are exiting the building, including the few that have paused to chat on the second-story landing of the brick staircase.  The streets were quiet, as Sunday mornings typically are.  Birds flitted about readying their nests on this blessed spring day.  Squirrels foraged and feasted on the finds they hid away the months before.  All was lovely... a perfect day for a long walk with our dog... or so one foolishly thought.

Veggie-Man & Chocolate Dog Bones - Heaven help us.

Growing up my house was a bit on the - let's say - unique side.  Humor was twisted affectionately  and freely shared.  If you ventured into our little red-bricked home, it was every man for himself.  For within these walls was my Mom, a tall red-headed, Sophia Loren lookalike, bombshell.  

There she stood in the kitchen, sidetracked from making dinner.  Carrots and celery filled the sink... except a chosen few.   Her body blocked the view as she pondered her produce. 

In the meantime, unbeknownst to us, Billy - aka my surrogate brother - was on his way over for a visit.  

From time to time he would go to the church around the corner.  It was a great way of staying out of trouble, and the piano and organ in the church sanctuary ‘called’ to him.  Fifi, the beloved church secretary - saw past the riffraff of Billy’s rebellious mischiefs.  When he asked if he could tinker on the piano... she opened the church doors with huge welcoming arms.  It is here he spent hours - HOURS - practicing and literally enlightening his soul with music.  

It was common, since our house was so close to the church, for drop-by-any-time visits... Billy did this often.  We had an open door policy.  So on this day, in the door bounds Billy.