When my alarm went off this morning at 5:45AM, my left eye refused to open. The familiar sensation of puss, both moist and crusted hard to my eyelashes didn’t leave me guessing for long what the problem was.
Pink eye. Lovely.
I haven’t had pink eye, or ‘conguntivitis’ as they call it here, since I was seven years old. It was one of those infections that got passed around the school yard. And later around the office, but so far in my adult life, I had successfully avoided it. Even during my first trip to London four years ago when my sister, Nicole, was diagnosed with a “severe” and disgusting case of it.
In fact, while working at my first real office job in Vancouver, there were at least several departmental outbreaks of it. And every time that email was sent around, my crazy co-worker would freak out and ask me if his eyes were red. They would be, but I think it was due to him rubbing them and poking his finger in them for an hour. He was odd, but a source of so much delight.
I guess it was inevitable that this would happen here. All these people and their germs in such tight little quarters. I guess this is my first ‘Tube infection’. First of many I predict.
So I’m rocking the sexy glasses look today and, so far, the puss hasn’t been too bad. Hopefully I can get to a clinic soon.