It’s been raining here for about the past 24 hours, much needed after a long dry spell. According to our official state website that tracks such matters, we are in a “significant drought.” You can tell that we haven’t had enough rain this summer because the fall foliage is muted. Trees need moisture to flame out.
So, I’m glad for the rain, even as it’s chilly and I’m putting on more sweaters. I turn on the heat in my office for the first time this fall and watch the rain dripping off the mountain laurel outside my office window. The drops cling to the leaves like glowing orbs until their surface tension breaks and they’re plucked by gravity’s pull.
My steroid eye drops arrived over the weekend. I think they are helping, though it’s too soon to be sure. I tried to follow the directions for application (pull your lower lid down to make a pouch for the drop, then hold it closed for a minute or so to be sure it doesn’t spill out of your eye), but I found it nearly impossible. My eyelids are (a) swollen and (b) not that flexible. So I just drop them in while looking up and do my best to not waste too much. My vision is still blurry, but my eyes don’t seem quite as sensitive. So far.
The gray sky helps. Bright light has been painful.
My German teacher tells me that the word for eye drops is Augentropfen. Somehow, this seems to capture the sensation of putting them in—the explosive pf feels like the fluid that always spills over.
I like it when words encapsulate sensations.
Like the word encapsulate. which sounds to my ear like a thought being snapped up.
drip
drip
drop
Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.
Image: Iuliia Naumova
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