You will no longer be proud of me. It seems my post about how maturely I handled December's pink eye bout has angered the Gods and Goddesses of Conjunctiva. We had a new outbreak last week--first Jeff, then me, then Charlie--and I have been a total loser about it. I wake up in the night breathless with panic, thinking that Oscar will be next and will rub his eyes and then rub his hands all over every surface of this house and we will all be doomed, DOOMED, for EVAHHHHHH. So far, his Baby Hazels remain pristine. I plan to make a sacrificial offering of the Gentamycin, Vigamox, Polytrim, Tobradex, and good old erythromycin that has populated the top shelf of my upstairs hall closet (heretofore known as The Museum of Pink Eye Medicine) on an altar of warm compresses.
Sacrificial offerings ALWAYS work... Good luck!
Posted by: jo | January 31, 2010 at 11:08 PM