Contact Trauma

We spent most of the morning at the the clinic. Well, to be more specific, Jilda spent about four green-chair hours in the infusion room wrapped so tightly in blankets that she looked like a cocoon.  I spent most of that time in the cafeteria writing this weeks' column and catching up on my reading. 

The sun was shining when we left, but the wind was steady out of the northwest making small pieces of litter dance across the parking lot like urban tumbleweeds.

We ate lunch and headed home for a long overdue nap on the couch. I dozed lightly and woke up when my deep relaxation MP3 ended. 

Normally when I wake up and stir, Jilda wakes up too, but on treatment days she's usually so beat that she's just a tick away from being in a coma. So this afternoon, I tiptoed into the office to keep from waking her. I spent some time sending out invoices.

After about an hour, my eyes grew tired, and as I stood to stretch, I rubbed my eyes realizing too late, that I was wearing my contacts, and I felt my left one roll. 

I almost said a wordy-durd. I stumbled into the bathroom and flipped on Jilda's makeup mirror which has one side that made my nose look as big as a banana. I pulled the lid up a little and there that bugger was rolled up like a tiny glass straw. 

I managed to ease it out without scratching my eye. Note to self - NEVER rub eyes when I'm wearing contacts.

On a lighter note, we have a couple gigs this weekend. We're playing a songwriter event at the Raspberry Bakery and on Saturday, I'm signing books at the Book Nook. 

I've been exchanging emails with a reporter down there, so hopefully she'll get a story in the paper tomorrow or Friday.

It should be a hoot, so if y'all are out and about around Sylacauga, stop by and say hello. Check the calendar on www.rickandjilda.com  for more details.