The Bag Hand

I had my eye appointment today, came away with antibiotic cream. I’ve damaged my corneas. Burnt them, I think, was the doctor’s best guess.

During the appointment, I embarrassed myself in the following ways, proving myself unfit for public scrutiny:

• Found a pair of tweezers in my pocket. Took it out, and before anyone could stop me, scratched the bejesus out of my hand. My friend had a Shoppers Drug Mart bag, and he confiscated my tweezers and bagged up my hand. I had a bag on my hand the whole time. A big silly bag with a hole at the end, and one of my nails poking through.

• Signed my name on the date line when I did the consent form.

• Chattered my teeth the whole time. Licked them obsessively. Poked at my jawline, and now it’s swelled up again. Serves me right.

• While the doctor was writing my prescription, apropos of nothing, I tapped him on the elbow and said “I’m frightened. Can I go? Can you e-mail that?” (He could not.)

The tweezers were blunt-nosed. No real damage was done, just some long yellow bruises.

I redid the consent form and signed where I should.

My jaw is still swollen. Dear God, I need a dentist.

The doctor sent my friend out and put a women’s hotline number on my phone. He thought I was being abused. I’m supposed to go back next month, but I’ll probably chicken out. I’m the bag-hand lady, the frightened lady, the teeth-chattering freak with the weird puffed-up jaw. How can I show my face?

I mean, I suppose none of that’s earth-shatteringly awful. I didn’t attack anyone, or cuss them out. I didn’t scream, run, or break anything, though my wheelchair left marks on the floor. Mother thought the bag hand was funny, though I wasn’t so amused.

I did one other thing today, right after I got home. I went out in the hall again, not far, but I made this GIF:

…just so my last outdoor memory wouldn’t be the bag hand. So tomorrow, when I try again, I won’t be thinking bag hand.

Ручная сумка. Did I say that right? Either way, ridiculous.

Addendum: I went out again. The bag hand was still on my mind. I caught some guy hoovering, and I GIF’d him as well. Look, a person! And I didn’t run away…not till after I’d GIF’d.