When I went in to see my ophthalmologist last Tuesday, I was a bit nervous. The purpose of my appointment was so he could remove a cyst that had been sitting in the corner of my right eye for the past two years; I don't really remember when it actually appeared for the first time, but I know it's been at least that long since people started telling me I had "sleep" in my eye when I didn't.
Sitting in the examining room chair, I listened as he warned me of the risks involved: the cyst could return, it could become infected, he could slip during the procedure. Those sorts of things. I signed off on the consent form, knowing that he would do all he could to keep any of them from happening.
He talked me through the process. Cleaning the area, applying the iodine, injecting the anaesthetic. He then held up a tweezers and scissors, telling me he was going to cut the cyst off. A few painless snips later, he held up the little white globule and said, "You're done!"
Easy enough, I thought.
As he was wiping away the iodine, he said, "Well, the bad news is, your eye is black and blue." I laughed a little and he went on to tell me about the ointment I would need to pick up at the pharmacy later in the day.
I thanked him, but before I could get up from my chair, he told me he wanted me to know what I looked like, so I wouldn't be surprised by people's reactions as I went out into the world. I expected the area to be swollen, red, and perhaps a little bloody. Then he held up the mirror.
Yep, I had a bona fide shiner. Basically, I looked like I got mugged on my lunch break. The following day, David had an appointment with the same doctor to have his eyes checked. He joked with him about giving me a black eye, and the doctor apologized; I honestly don't know if he expected me to bruise up the way I did.
It has been nearly a week, and while the actual "wound," as the doctor called it, has healed up quite nicely, I still have a rather colorful right side. Despite the fact that the bruise never spread under my entire eye, my skin has yellowed all the way to the outer edge. One of my co-workers said, "You don't just have a black eye; that thing is technicolor!"