June 10, 2010

A Pretty Pirate I is, says me!

While chatting with my friend, the Almighty and Powerful Spudz, the other day (I prefer to spell his name with a “Z” because he prefers to spell my name with a “Y”… we’re even now), I told him that I was coming up blank as to what to blog about. Should I blog about my volunteer experience? I have been pushing so hard to encourage more volunteers to help flood victims after all. Or, should I blog about something going on in the music scene? I’m about go to back in studio on the 24th of this month. Or, should I blog about my family? With seven children, two grandparents, four dogs, three cats, and a stressed out mama – let’s just say, there’s always something interesting going on (i.e. a tick being found – and announced loudly and obnoxiously – on Kidlet #7’s Tally-wacker aka Penis aka Balls.)

After only a moment of thought from Spudz, he said, “Blog about your eye!” I said, “Seriously?” He said, “Yes.” And, so it is said… so it shall be done.

Last Thursday, around bedtime, I rubbed my eye and somehow managed to get a piece of lint or something jammed up under my contact. After fussing with it and doing everything to try and work it out WITHOUT taking out my contact, I finally succumbed to the pain and took out the contact. By this time, my eye was completely red and inflamed. I looked like I had a raging case of pink-eye. Looking closely, the outline of the contact could clearly be seen in the redness.

I wake up the next morning still miserable, eyelid somewhat swollen, and intense redness. There was a moderate amount of irritation and I could not see anything coherently out of that eye. But, off to work I went.

By 3pm, the pain was searing. I finally carried my butt up to the doctor who walked in and said, “PINK EYE!” I looked at him as though he was insane. You see, country doctors don’t like to actually be doctors and find out the facts. They just come in after reading a half-illiterate nurse’s note, diagnose you without actually talking to you, write a prescription for something totally lame (and usually wrong), and send you on your merry way. Well, by golly, I was NOT going to walk out of there without a solution! Or, at least a referral to a good Ophthalmologist in Nashville.

I got him to stop and listen to me, he checked my eye with some special light, and determined that I had multiple severe corneal abrasions (but he still wrote in my chart that I had Pink Eye – to which I say – DUMBASS). They put some nasty Neosporin like goop in my eye, patched up my eye in a hasty, disheveled, it’s-4:45pm-on-Friday-and-I-want-to-go-home-so-get-this-patient-out-of-here-and-don’t-make-eye-contact-whatever-you-do-because-she-might-ask-a-question-that-I-will-have-to-answer way.

From there I went straight to my hair appointment because, let’s face it, patch or no patch, Mama needed her hairs did!!! They was looking kinda scrappy up in da follicles! I walked in and my wonderful hairdresser Kelli said, “WHAT THE *#@%! DID YOU DO?!” I looked at her and said, “I’m a pretty pirate!” After laughing her ass off, she kindly drove me to the pharmacy to get my Rx’s of Lortab and eye goop, took me back to the salon and did me up purdy. She even painted my toenails while I serenaded her. We always have a good time.

Three hours later I was on my way home, walking into the house, amidst a flurry of “MOMMY! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?!” Naturally, it’s always about what I did – never about what someone, something, or some other force did to me. I’m the screw-up. It’s ok. I’m making peace with it.

The next day I had a show. I was singing at a benefit for flood victims and I had a patch on my eye. Pirate Debbie Lee at your service! Aside from the overwhelming desire to pillage and plunder (or more appropriately be pillaged and plundered… a story for another day), I wasn’t about to let anything stop me from performing that benefit. So, I did. Eye patch wouldn’t stay on because it was hot and I was sweating like a… well, like a very hot girl!

End result – after finally obtaining a referral to an ophthalmologist whom I saw on Tuesday, my eye will be OK! My sight is returning, the abrasion is healing, and all is well on this ship for now!

But, c’mon – y’all have to admit – I made a damned pretty pirate! ARGH!