Feminist, Fictionista, Foodie, Francophile

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Cross My Heart, Hope to Die...

Stick a needle in my eye.

Remember that scene in Star Wars where Darth Vader menaces Princess Leia with the high-tech needle in her eye? If you're like me, you thought, "Okay, I'm brave but I'll tell you pretty much everything to keep you from sticking that needle in my eye."

So imagine my surprise that all thee years later, I'm the willing recipient of monthly eye injections as part of a three-year study to see how well a certain drug performs. (It's a double-blind study but I know I didn't get the placebo because from the first injection, my eyesight was much better.) The first time I was injected I was a wreck. "They're going to stick a needle in my eye!" I announced to everyone who would listen and without exception, everyone responded with a shudder. (I have "eye issues" anyway. To this day I can't look at that eye-slitting scene in Andalusian Dog.)

Now, though, the most stressful thing about my trips to the Retina-Vitreous Clinic is the day-long process. Since my eyes are dilated, I can't read. So mostly I listen. Every person has a story and when you sit next to them while they're waiting for someone to stick a needle in their eye too, you eventually hear their stories. It's a win/win situation. I'm not going blind and I'm getting a lot of "material." And if you ever see a story with needles or eyes, you'll know where I got my inspiration.

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