Jeepers, Creepers

Ah, Monday morning and it’s damp and chilly outside.

I have Old man’s Eye. You should have seen it on Saturday with the stye; it’s much better now. The stye itself has gone, but there are clearly the remnants of infection there. The eyeball is VERY bloodshot and the upper and lower lids are red and itchy. I am still having difficulty focussing on anything beyond three or four yards away, but isn’t gumming up anymore, though. The main annoyance is becoming the raisin like wrinkling of the skin around the socket, which makes me look as that part of my face has been grafted on from a hard-living 80 year old.

I may have to resort to using some of Furtle’s face cream in an effort to re-beautify that section of my physog.¹

Yesterday we met up with drjohnsilence in the afternoon and retired to the pub to watch Sunderland and West Ham churn out one of the most dire 90 minutes of football ever. A mere two and a half pints and a pub lunch pretty much saw to us and on regaining the Carpathia, Furtle and I sort of collapsed until just before nine, before dragging ourselves down to watch episode one of Good Life Extreme, or Survivors as the BBC insist on calling it.

It was a good start, I thought, setting up the series nicely. I am a little lost over the scheduling mind. Episode two is airing on Tuesday night, but after that they seem to be repeating at random times across the various BBC digital channels. The third episode is not scheduled for next Sunday at nine, when they appear to be premiering something else. We’ve not had comedy scheduling like that since Babylon 5 aired.

Excuse me now while I try not to scratch my eye.

¹Yes, I know; there isn’t enough beauty cream in the world…

Jeepers, Creepers

Ah, Monday morning and it’s damp and chilly outside.

I have Old man’s Eye. You should have seen it on Saturday with the stye; it’s much better now. The stye itself has gone, but there are clearly the remnants of infection there. The eyeball is VERY bloodshot and the upper and lower lids are red and itchy. I am still having difficulty focussing on anything beyond three or four yards away, but isn’t gumming up anymore, though. The main annoyance is becoming the raisin like wrinkling of the skin around the socket, which makes me look as that part of my face has been grafted on from a hard-living 80 year old.

I may have to resort to using some of Furtle’s face cream in an effort to re-beautify that section of my physog.¹

Yesterday we met up with drjohnsilence in the afternoon and retired to the pub to watch Sunderland and West Ham churn out one of the most dire 90 minutes of football ever. A mere two and a half pints and a pub lunch pretty much saw to us and on regaining the Carpathia, Furtle and I sort of collapsed until just before nine, before dragging ourselves down to watch episode one of Good Life Extreme, or Survivors as the BBC insist on calling it.

It was a good start, I thought, setting up the series nicely. I am a little lost over the scheduling mind. Episode two is airing on Tuesday night, but after that they seem to be repeating at random times across the various BBC digital channels. The third episode is not scheduled for next Sunday at nine, when they appear to be premiering something else. We’ve not had comedy scheduling like that since Babylon 5 aired.

Excuse me now while I try not to scratch my eye.

¹Yes, I know; there isn’t enough beauty cream in the world…

Jeepers, Creepers (ii)

This air conditioning is playing havoc with my eyes and to be frank, I am finding it such a relief when they are closed, that I really don’t like opening them. I went outside at lunchtime, where it is cold and windy and decidedly not eye-drying. It felt a whole heap better, I can tell you.

A colleague suggested something called Goldeneye as a treatment. I wondered briefly about Bond movies, but found that it is a mildly antiseptic cream obligingly purveyed by Boots (or Boots the Chemist as they like to be known).

Well, I bought some, followed the destructions and splodged the appropriate amount (approx) between my eye and lower eyelid and blinked several times to ensure they spread of goop across the eyeball. It feels easier already, yes it does. But also I find that now and again I blink and everything blurs as a blob of goop sits across the pupil. I can’t use it again until about 6.30pm tonight. If I do it then and before bed time (maybe both eyes at that point), I am hopeful that it will all get better quickly.

Jeepers, Creepers (ii)

This air conditioning is playing havoc with my eyes and to be frank, I am finding it such a relief when they are closed, that I really don’t like opening them. I went outside at lunchtime, where it is cold and windy and decidedly not eye-drying. It felt a whole heap better, I can tell you.

A colleague suggested something called Goldeneye as a treatment. I wondered briefly about Bond movies, but found that it is a mildly antiseptic cream obligingly purveyed by Boots (or Boots the Chemist as they like to be known).

Well, I bought some, followed the destructions and splodged the appropriate amount (approx) between my eye and lower eyelid and blinked several times to ensure they spread of goop across the eyeball. It feels easier already, yes it does. But also I find that now and again I blink and everything blurs as a blob of goop sits across the pupil. I can’t use it again until about 6.30pm tonight. If I do it then and before bed time (maybe both eyes at that point), I am hopeful that it will all get better quickly.