When the Ceiling Fell In My Eye


This story is for you, dear lovely reader who loved the tampon story so much it made you snort. 😉 Here’s another story for you.

***

Once upon a time, when I was in college, I had just returned from a long day preparing for my last few days of finals. It was the day before my final Children’s Literature paper was due, and I walked into the bathroom to freshen up when literally out of nowhere, one of those sharp, pokey things that stick out in a 1980s textured ceiling inexplicably became detached from its 20-year-home on the bathroom ceiling and landed directly in my right eye.

I wasn’t looking up even. Just walking straight. It was like time and space had aligned themselves so perfectly that somehow the ceiling fragment dropped exactly as I walked right into it, and my eyeball caught it mid-fall.

And it wasn’t just “in my eye” like I could just let my tears wash it out. It was embedded in my eyeball. (Is anyone having the hee-bee jee-bees yet?)

I stared into the mirror and blinked in every imaginable way to try to get the thing to dislodge. I tried to wash it out. I tried to cry it out. Nothing worked.

I thought, “Ugh! I don’t have time for this. I have to write my Children’s Lit paper tonight!”  I was just going to suffer through it, but I called my dad (who is a nurse) to see if there was anything I could do so I could just get to writing my paper.  He told me to go to the ER.

“I don’t have time to go to the ER, Dad! I have a final due tomorrow.”

“You don’t have time to go blind either!” he admonished.  I was SO annoyed with him — and with the tiny piece of 1980s ceiling trapped in my eye — but he was right, so I went to the ER.

The doctor there was very good, and it didn’t even hurt at all when he basically took a Q-tip and took the stupid thing right out of my eye like it was an eyelash. They sent me home with Lortabs for when the numbing medicine would wear off, and told me to keep my eye closed for several hours.

Several hours? I had already been at the ER for several hours, and I still had my Children’s Lit final to write. How was I supposed to keep my eye closed for several more hours?

Well, I’ll tell you. An eye patch. And since I didn’t have time to figure out where the nearest pirate supply store was, I downed my Lortab, took my gel eye mask out of the fridge, and placed it crookedly over my head so it covered only my wounded eye. The cool gel pack felt great on my eye, but I looked a little bit drunk and ridiculous.

Gel-cooling-eye-mask

Pretend this is crooked on a messy curly-haired head.

And then I went to the computer and wrote my term paper until all hours of the night, half high on Lortabs.

By 3 a.m. or so, I was a bit delirious and entirely exhausted, so (in my delirium) I thought it seemed like an excellent idea to crawl underneath the computer chair and lie down “just for a few minutes.”

I woke up in the morning, still underneath the chair, warm gel mask still around my now very messy hair, still appearing very drunk. And my final wasn’t all the way finished.

I did actually have my wits about me by this point though, so I raced back to school (sans eye-patch, but still wearing the clothes from the day before) and did the best I could to pull everything together in less than an hour.

And college-me lived happily ever after because I got an A. 🙂

The End.

***

Okay, so it’s not nearly as great of a story as the tampon one. But I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Sweet dreams.

— The Conscious Mom

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