Pain and Resurrection

Here I sit in utter disbelief that a blocked tear duct can cause one so much pain. I think I coped better with birthing labor than I am coping right now. I just hope I can go to sleep tonight in spite of my throbbing eye (and that the problem will magically go away). According to some medical web sites, blocked tear ducts generally affect only infants and are very uncommon among non-elderly adults. I always find a way around these laws of nature. My body just hears "very uncommon" and decides it would be novel to acquire said problem. It is so unnerving! Now that I have read that it can be cause for concern to have chronic blockage of the lacrimal system (or something like that), I will of course be preoccupied by the possibility of damage to my eyesight if this is left untreated, or worse, by fear that a tumor is causing it. Just what I need--a tumor in my head mucking up my tear ducts. Way to go Body. Way to get a detrimental uncommon malady this time. I am feverishly attempting to discover recommended doctors on our insurance plan, but of course the DocFind feature on their web site is horrendous. I finally got tired of scrolling through the options around number 352. Enough!

On a lighter note, I am still reeling from the miraculous clock resurrection that took place in our dining area earlier this week. I have had this cheapo clock for so long that I can't even remember if it jumped on my life's journey wagon in 1997 when I signed my first apartment lease or in 1999 when I married Britt and set up house in the good ol' Fleetwood. It's just a five dollar Wal-Mart jobber. Anyway, from time to time it would quit, so I just replaced the battery and that seemed to do the trick. Well, during the past year it has seemed to quit regardless of battery strength, but before we would take time to pitch it in the trash where it seemingly belongs, it would start up again and seem to keep good time. So time and time again it has earned the right to continue on the journey. This time I felt sure it was dead for good. It hung there motionless for so many days that I finally retrained my brain NOT to look up there to note the time. Then one evening this week Britt says to me, "Oh, I see you got the clock working again." I glanced at the wall, and sure enough the thing was tictocking right along. Nothing unusual there. But when I said, "No, I didn't do it," Britt said, "Huh. Well, it's set right. That's odd. Do you mean it started back up at the exact right time? You're kidding me." He honestly thought I was kidding him. I was as amazed as he was! That's one of those things that would never happen again in a million years. I guess the ol' Ingraham has bought itself some more time on our wall.