Left Eye Airlines Is Gaining Altitude

Another day, another update from the increasingly complicated flight deck known as my left eye.

And today, I actually have some good news:

I can see a little better.

Not 20/20; throw away the glasses; read the bottom line of the eye chart better.

But better.

Since Friday, I’ve been taking three different eye drops, four times a day. At this point, administering eye drops has basically become a part-time job.

Morning: drops.
Later: drops.
Afternoon: drops.
Evening: you guessed it... more drops.

But something appears to be happening.

The strange horizon-indicator view I've been describing is changing again. When I look straight ahead, there is still a visible bubble at the very bottom of my field of vision.

So apparently, the complimentary vinaigrette service aboard Left Eye Airlines is finally running low. 🥗

The bubble hasn't completely disappeared, but I'm able to see a bit better through the left eye than I could before.

I'll take it.

Unfortunately, while my eye may be improving, the rest of my body has apparently filed several complaints about the treatment plan.

The antibiotics are absolutely wrecking my stomach.

I don't tolerate antibiotics particularly well to begin with, and my stomach has made its position on the matter extremely clear:

NO THANK YOU.

Then we have the steroids.

Those aren't upsetting my stomach.

They're doing something much more dangerous.

They're making me hungry.

Not regular hungry.

Steroid hungry.

The kind of hungry where you eat something and your stomach immediately asks:

"That was the appetizer, right?"

So the current recovery scoreboard looks something like this:

Left eye: improving. 👁️
Bubble: still hanging around at the bottom. 🫧
Stomach: protesting the antibiotics.
Appetite: apparently preparing for hibernation.
Arm: still healing from my recent disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity and the carpet.

The photos continue to make everything look considerably more dramatic than it feels, especially the arm. But compared with where things were just a few days ago, I'll happily take incremental progress.

And perhaps most importantly, Captain Niel seems to be getting a little more visibility from the cockpit.

We're not at cruising altitude yet.

The seatbelt sign is definitely still illuminated.

But for the first time in a few days, I think we may actually be able to see the runway.

And the vinaigrette?

Almost off the menu. ✈️👁️🥗🫧

Apparently, My Eye Is Climbing Now

Another day, another update from the cockpit of Left Eye Airlines.

Yesterday, I discovered that my vision now comes equipped with what looks like an airplane’s horizon indicator.

Today?

Apparently, we’re climbing.

The line across my vision is no longer level. It’s tilted, making the view through my left eye look like an aeronautical instrument telling me the aircraft is headed upward.

This would be significantly more exciting if I were actually flying somewhere.

Instead, I’m sitting here looking through an eyeball that has apparently decided it wants its pilot’s license.

The view itself is still divided into two distinct classes of service.

Above the horizon: blurry and out of focus.

Below the horizon: we are STILL serving vinaigrette. 🥗

So, if my eye were an airplane instrument panel, I believe the current message would be:

CLIMBING. VISIBILITY POOR. SALAD DRESSING BELOW.

Meanwhile, my arm continues healing from my disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity, and the carpet. It still looks considerably worse than it feels, but it appears to be moving in the right direction.

The eye is looking a little less dramatic from the outside, too.

From the inside?

Captain Niel is apparently gaining altitude.

At this point, I'm just waiting for my eye to announce:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude. You may now move about the cabin."

Until then, tray tables upright, seat belts fastened, and please keep the vinaigrette securely stored below the horizon.

✈️👁️🥗

My Eye Now Has Its Own Horizon Indicator

Another day, another update from the ongoing adventure known as my left eye.

The good news? My vision is changing.

The strange news? Apparently, my eye now thinks it’s an airplane.

When I look through my left eye today, there is a very distinct horizontal line across my vision. It reminds me of the horizon indicator in an airplane cockpit—the instrument that shows the pilot where the horizon is.

Except I'm not flying a plane.

I'm sitting here trying to see.

Above my personal horizon, things are blurry and out of focus.

Below the horizon?

We’re still serving vinaigrette.

That lower half of my vision still looks like I'm staring through cloudy salad dressing. So apparently my eye has divided the world into two viewing options:

Top half: blurry television.

Bottom half: vinaigrette.

At least there’s variety.

Meanwhile, my arm from last week's disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity, and the carpet continues to look far more dramatic than it feels. It's scabbing over and healing, although judging strictly by the photo, it appears my arm has been through considerably more than I remember.

So the recovery continues.

The eye is still red. The arm is still ugly. The steroid drops have still failed to turn me into the Hulk.

But every day, something changes.

And today, apparently, Captain Niel has a horizon indicator.

Please return your tray tables to their upright and locked position. ✈️👁️🥗