Horrible eye injury
My son, Tampa Bay Area, 2009,
I took off for England against my will with a briefcase style safe full of my meds and without a shower. My husband threatened me with the dread word “Canada,”–if I didn’t go to England to help us emigrate there (I possesses U.K. as well as American citizenship; he is Canadian), he would return to Canada. He didn’t even mean it. It was just to make me do it. And it did. I got on the plane.
Next thing I knew I was stranded over Atlanta. There was a bad storm. When we landed, it was late at night; I had lost my luggage, except for the safe full of meds that I was carrying. At about 2 in the morning I had reached a hotel about a half-hour south of the city. That involved my ex calling around and my getting a cab, as everywhere was booked due to the storm. I had no clothing, I was completely soaked with sweat from frantically walking around the airport for hours trying to board buses to motels.
In the motel they were very suspicious.
Finally, I took a shower and had to put my soaked clothes back on. As I remember I stayed for 2 days.
Then, an overnight flight to England in my dirty, sweaty clothes.
In the motel, I had called up my father to come from PA to rescue me.
I had been terribly worried about leaving my son at home, he was in the middle of some behavioral crises and I didn’t feel he was safe.
In the motel, I had the worst intimations, I had the most terrifying feelings about something bad happening to him.
I got to England; Manchester Airport; they were very suspicious at customs but they let me through. I found my husband and he took me to his little hotel where he wanted me to rent an apartment the innkeeper had.
To make a long story short, that evening, we got a call from Florida.
My son was in the hospital. He and his best friend had been throwing around darts. His friend had lobbed one at his face and it lodged in the white of his eye; 2 mm from his brain.
It has taken me a decade to be able to come back to this and write about it calmly; and so much has happened in the meantime.
I am here to explain to him what happened, that I didn’t want to go on that trip, that I wanted to return to Tampa when the storm hit over Atlanta, that I did everything I could not to go on that trip but I was threatened. My parents and my psychologist wouldn’t help.
And then, I was so traumatized by the flight that I couldn’t return right away! We had to book a return flight, not the following day, but the day after! I felt so stupid! But there was nothing I could do! I was so ill!
When I returned to Tampa and all kinds off stuff went down over this. I wrote about 400 pages on lined notebook paper that I then couldn’t read; it ended in the words “THE DART” in large letters. I was “running”–I was staying in motels, then I got an apartment.
So, I set out here to write about my own eye issues; but I had to write this first, about yours, Ian. Because you had to understand that I had a weakness. And this is probably why this happened to you.
First of all, starting when we moved to a townhouse in Maryland in the D.C. area, I started to have eye spasms. The “older” psych meds affect your eyes. Because eye function is closely associated with brain function.
It happened at the psych hospital there, and I ran out into the day room screaming “My eyes!”
Everyone thought that was really stupid, but it was really scary.
Then, a few years later I was at a hospital here in PA, and everyone hated me; I went to the pharmacy and the guy behind the counter said, as I walked away, “She really LOOKS crazy.” (I was getting a psych med filled.) That was so disheartening.
Then, back in Tampa Bay, Florida, I went to a doctor complaining of getting eye spasms while driving. She told me to take Ativan, which is used for eye spasms, which I was already taking; and then she reported me for driving while taking psych meds! And I ended up losing my license! I got it back, of course. But I had to go through 2 years of reviews!
Then, I had severe issues with dry eye because of a doctor forcing me to take lithium because my family mistakenly advised him that I needed it when I knew that I didn’t. Because they were trying to get back at me for not taking years before. I didn’t need it then either. My family just didn’t get it. Then, the doctor took me off of it. But, it was too late.
Then, I was always “wiping” at my eyes, with the final result that now I have no eyelashes. I was horrified because, after a period of severe, psychotic bug phobia, that came on to me through so much paranoia and social disassociation, I thought that I had lost my eyelashes from demodex, which is a parasite that infests human eyelashes in people who don’t wash adequately, and I certainly fit that category in much of my life; that was just unfortunate how that went for me. But, a PCP a few years back declined to treat me for demodex. And to my relief I realized that, as I have said, it was more likely the constant wiping at my eyes that caused my lashes to fall out. At this point, they are completely gone. At the psych hospital earlier this year, the nurses were good enough to let me know that that is why I am not getting on with people. I saw my DL picture from 2016 that looked so awful, but I just couldn’t see it, that it was the lack of eyelashes that made it so awful.
So, now that I feel better about the cause–as far as my eyes– that I am addressing, I have returned to putting on eye makeup–eye-liner which I tried once before but abandoned; and, also, an eyebrow liner. I do not leave the house without it. My old friend from high school gave me a wardrobe makeover a couple of years ago and wanted to do makeup also but at the time I resisted the make-up; and also we didn’t have time; now I realize her concern!
I always hated putting on any kind of make-up! But now, I really realize the need!
I wanted people to know that I am not trying to attract anyone or anything I am just addressing a serious appearance issue, like a broken limb.
So, my son, I am so sorry for what happened to you.
I also wanted to address it about the cats.
This day, I am trying to help Sasha. I believe she has a urinary tract infection. But, I have to wait to get her treated until I have the money to pay. There is nothing I can do. Grandad will pay. But not until Saturday. I am maxed out on every cash account and every credit acount.
Oh, and about Sasha, grandma took care of her better than other cats she has had; she did learn; from me! I told her, if you’re going to rescue her (and Spirit, the other abandoned kitten that came at that time) then do it right and take them to the vet for the care that they need. And Yes, Of Course they know you, Mom! You saved their lives!
But at the beginning she took care of her animals horribly and I am saying this to point it out about me. That she took care of me like I was an animal. And that has to be said because of how badly she took care of animals. The suffered sick and horrible lives. And that’s how it was for me. I don’t really know what that was about. But now that she is gone I can talk and express myself and get the help I need.
Which leads me to my final point.
As I said, I am out of money. Finally, at the age of 58, I realized to PRAY ABOUT THIS. I prayed to St Joseph–the Memore. And my prayer was answered. I was hearing intimations that I would be offered a job. I remembered applying to OVR and those dull boring jobs I was offered–because I couldn’t do them with my disability! The Lord led me. He is telling me to write! HE is hiring me! He is meeting me in my thoughts where I need him tell me to do exactly what I need to be doing. Where I have been saying to myself, and others, “I want to write, I want to be a writer.” And that’s different from actually taking up your pen (or laptop) and making a start. Its funny how writers and artists make a start. I didn’t see that it would happen to me!
So, shortly, I will! Make a start!