I've never had pink eye before. I've had every other minor illness known to human kind (except monkey pox and lice), but I have somehow escaped pink eye. Until a week ago...
My eye is still a little pink.
Googling pink eye is difficult to do with one working eye, but I somehow garnered up the conviction and courage to complete the task. While Googling, I was sure to hum the following tune:
- I am a man who will fight for your honor .
I was not sure how this inspirational song would help my eyeball become white again, but somehow, in some small momentous way, it seemed appropriate. (Also, I have been watching a lot of Karate Kid II lately)
Dr. Google said that I could have got pink eye a variety of ways, but the most shocking (but I am still not sure most likely) was from fecal matter in the eye!
"Fecal Matter In The Eye" was actually my first choice for our high school garage band name. Alas, me and the boys emphatically went with "Bloody Stool". Looking back, the poopy eye name would have been so much more prophetically savvy. Unless of course, I develop the other torturous condition at a future date in my life. I can only hope this happens; life would then have really gone full circle for me.
Now, it seems that I am always washing my hands after using the restroom. Just something I was taught from an early age, I suppose. It's a retched and monotonous habit really - all that soap and water and drying and/or wiping on the front of my pants - (Depending on if the restroom is out of paper towels or if their electric hand dryer is malfunctioning) It's a never ending cycle and an irritating cleaning vexation.
I've actually considered inventing pants for kids with built in hand towels on the upper thighs. This is where kids dry their hands anyway and cotton is so much more absorbent than denim.
Several newscasts recently have had special reports on how long one should wash their hands for after using the restroom. Apparently, in order to rid your hands of every germ, you must sing the ABC song twice. The ABC song? Well, I have done a little research of my own and I find that the best song to wash your hands to is,"Nothing Compares to You" It's slow, methodical, and ever so boring... but has a great message. Really, it's everything a hand washing song should be.
♪♪♪It's been seven hours and fifteen days since you took your love away I go out every night and sleep all day since you took your love away since you've been gone I can do whatever I want I can see whomever I choose I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant but nothing I said nothing can take away these blues, 'cause nothing compares... nothing compares to you ♪♪♪
Sure, it is a little embarrassing when I am at Jazz games or in a port-o-potty line, but it gets the job done. It is best to just look at the starers and say in a slow, directed whisper, "My hands are clean. My hands are clean..."
I am also considering inventing a travel sized black light to prove the cleanliness of my hands.
ANYWAY, What I am trying to say is that I am fairly certain that my eyeballs have had any direct contact with fecal matter. I can't be positive about this though - I did find my contact on the toilet seat earlier that day. Fortunately, there weren't any brown streaks that I could see, so I didn't even need to rinse it... just blew it off a little bit.
Still, really... HIGHLY unlikely that there was any fecal matter in my eye.
I know what you are thinking: How in the tree chickens name did you find the contact lense on the toilet seat? Another good question. All I can say is that when I sat down, four words came to mind - princess and the pea... princess... and... the... pea.
So, my eyes are finally back to normal. It was nice to support breast cancer awareness for the past few days though. People could just see the passion for this cause in my eyes.
If you would like to make a donation in my name, you may click here.
(Make sure you tell them Cheeseboy's eyes sent you. They will know what that means)