Last Sunday morning, my dad drives me to the Memphis airport so that I can fly off to Burlington, Vermont and then travel to New York City for a spring break trip. I was excited to be travelling back to that part of the country and to travel on my own. I make it to Burlington after flying through Charlotte, NC and JFK airport in New York and pretty much collapse in the hotel. I wake up Monday and head to a great eatery in downtown Burlington called Magnolia Bistro and had their oatmeal pancakes with Vermont maple syrup(I mean you just have to!). I bum around the downtown area, and as I am driving back to the hotel, my right eye starts to water profusely, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
WHAT? I don’t have food allergies, and it’s 26 degrees out, so it can’t be pollen related. This begins a very long week.
I pretty much stay in my hotel until Wednesday, can’t see my friend who lives near VT, barely make it to the Magic Hat brewery, and begin taking benadryl and using visine eye drops like crazy. It sucked. Royally. I’m by myself, in a city where I know no one, and I can’t really get to the hospital. I muster up strength, and Wednesday morning, I check out of the hotel, head back to the airport to drop off my rental car, and wait for a man named Don to take me to the Essex Junction, VT Amtrak station. This guy had a limp and grumbled at me. Great. I’m never going to be heard from again. He gets me to the station, and by this point, I can barely keep my eyes open. I physically have to open them. I must have looked like a diva since I never took off my sunglasses, but when you feel like shit, all appearance worries go out the window.
Nine hours later, I get to Penn Station. I couldn’t enjoy the New England views, or even the NYC skyline. This was my first EVER tip to the Big Apple, and I can’t see anything. Oh, and my contacts are out, so add that to the mix. And I’ve been wearing the same pants since Sunday. I look AWESOME. I somehow figure out how to find the 8th street entrance/exit from Penn, get a taxi to my aunt and uncle’s apartment at Central Park South, and I made it. I spend about 18 hours in the city as a whole-my uncle takes me to an optometrist the next morning, and it was decided that I didn’t have an allergy problem…
I have a corneal abrasion.
Did I mention I’ve never been to New York before now? Ok good.
I’m back in the 901 by 7pm that Thursday night, and my dad has antibiotic eye drops in hand. The rest of the weekend consisted of two wearings of an eye patch, a lot of eye drops, artificial tears, and sleep.
I now own glasses, and will be wearing them for two weeks.
So, if you see me fumbling around town with these things on my face, tread lightly.,