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.

✈️👁️🥗