cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye...

You all remember the chant of all little girls when they were promising to keep a secret... "cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye"?? I don't really know what it all means, but all I do know is that sticking a needle in my eye doesn't sound so fun... or appealing... that is, until I got a stye.

It all started on Tuesday night, after the last second shot Aggie win (Josh Carter is my boy!) against Nebraska. I was at Beth and Jordan's house for the night in Houston... starting my whirl-wind trip around Texas for the week. I went to bed, just thinking that the Houston allergies weren't liking me. Needless to say, that by the time I got to Henderson on Wednesday night, my right eye was really bothering me. Not red, but just uncomfortable. On Thursday, I spent the day in Dallas... and as the day wore on, my eye got progressively bigger, redder and uglier. It was Thursday late afternoon when I finally determined that I had a stye... and then the fun began...

Friday morning, I'm back in Henderson... about to start out my busy day of Reunion planning with the girls... and I look in the mirror to find that the whole right side of my face is swollen! It looks like someone had punched me during the middle of the night. So, I put on the glasses, go to the doctor and get some drops. I'm thinking that it'll all be better by the next day...

Wrong. Saturday morning, I woke up to even more swelling! And this time, it looked like my face was discolored. As if I were literally bruising from being punched in the face! Awesome. I spent all day on the couch, with a hot pad on my eye... and nothing was happening. The good thing about the day was that Aggies won again! I ended up calling Dr. Mike again that night and told him that he had to help me out. That my eye was going ca-ra-zy. I got some antibiotics that night (I'm pretty sure I'm going to butter up a doctor to give me a lifetime supply of amoxicillian, because that's all they ever give me... but the scary part was that he said he wanted to see me before I hit the road on Sunday to see if we would need to drain the stye with a needle. Ummm... como? Literally sticking a needle in my eye?! Errrr.... I don't-think-so. My dad was so grossed out by the thought, that he just refused to even talk or joke about it.

Sunday morning. It's still swollen, even more red than the previous days. Go see Dr. Mike. Good news... I now have what looks like a pimple on the stye... which means "it's ready to pop at any time" Yeepee... I guess. No needles needed... which kinda made me sad... would've made for a much better story. However, he does tell me, "no eye make-up for 2 to 3 weeks... and don't wear contacts." Oh... I'm sorry? I'm not really a girly-girl all the time, but the one thing I am girly about is mascara. No mascara? That's the one thing I don't go without... Sorry doc... that's not gonna happen!

Monday morn. Still have the stye. Still have the pimple... "that's ready to pop"... but that sucker won't pop. This is just crazy. I've never seen a stye go "a-rye" like this before. Needless to say, nothing is ready to pop... nothing is ready to go away and let me wear my contacts again.

Dear stupid, crazy stye,

Go away.

With no love,
skd