Yeah, it’s preparedness month for people like us all year long. But September is official. The government say so, so I believe it. 😉
Yes, I’m late to mention it.
Saturday at 2:00 a.m. I got a reminder of the one weakness in my prep kits. I woke up feeling as if I had something in my eye, way back in the outside corner where it wasn’t easy to get at. Hours later, it was still there, despite doing expedient things like sticking my head underwater and wiggling my eyeballs around. (I’m so glad nobody was around with a camera. I probably looked like this.)
Later in the day that pesky mote was still around despite a trip to the drug store for proper eyewash.
Today, either it’s still there or it’s gone but left a painful scratch. Luckily, I found a drugstore that’s open for a hour on Sunday for prescription pickup and I got an ointment that temporarily soothed my eye, if not my wallet. From here, we shall see what we shall see.
But I should have had both eye wash and some type of soothing ointment — and perhaps a terramycin antibiotic ointment (for veterinary use only, wink-wink, nod-nod) — in my kit. Now I have two of those items and the third on the way.
Fortunately, the whatever-it-was-or-is in my eye is more irritating than seriously painful. But it brought back a bad memory.
One day many years ago I was walking my dogs on a beautiful morning when my eyes abruptly became super-sensitive to sunlight. By the time I got home, sensitivity had turned to agony. I spent the next day, until I got get an appointment with an ophthalmologist, sitting blindfolded on the floor of a darkened room, weeping in pain.
By the time a neighbor drove me to the doctor, I would have done anything — anything — that doc told me to do, without question. If he’d said the only solution was to remove both eyeballs, I’d have said, “Take them — NOW!” If he’d have said I needed brain surgery, I’d have let him hand me over to be cut up without question.
Fortunately, the fix was less drastic and in a few days it was as if nothing had ever happened. But I’ve never forgotten the combination of rapidity, agony, and helplessness.
Habitual wellness makes us over-confident — and sometimes under-prepared. And it’s easy to put old pain out of mind.