What I had for dinner on Thursday, December 29, 2011

This evening I texted G., as I usually do, to say “At terminal, will be on the 620 boat.” He promptly called me back, which raised red flags instantly — he does not like to make phone calls — though I was pleased to note he sounded fairly calm when I picked up. “I scratched my eye and it looks gross,” he said.

… um, OK?

Turned out he got a bit of dirt or bark or whatever in his eye while chopping firewood, and then rubbed it, and then it got “gross” and “looked like a blister” on the white. He wanted permission from me to *not* go to the urgent care clinic, which is ~30 minutes from our house and which was apparently backed up at the time. And which he couldn’t drive himself to, on account of eyeball — and I wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half.

I said “Well *I* would call your mother and ask her to take me. If it were me.” He sighed and agreed. Unfortunately she was not around, so he called a cab instead.

He was released from the clinic before I could even get there. He is fine. He basically just made a blister, as he suggested, by irritating it, and then the subcutaneous fluid — or whatever it is in an eye; eyeball juice? — filled it. So it is just a little blister and irritation. THE END.

But anyway we didn’t get home until 8:30 and so we ordered a pizza because we had made no dinner.

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