As I cuddle with daughter, in bed, watching the elephants march in the ever-loved Jungle Book, it is not with a sense of glee. No, not on this, the 3rd day of 2012. It is because my 2 yr old has double pink eye.
|Day 3 of badness (I can barely open my eyes)|
If you read my yr end summary, you’ll note that this is the third round of double pink eye for the third girl in our family. It started with me in Mexico, hit my daughter on the plane ride home and bam. Now my youngest.
Let the sympathy flow.
If you are unduly suffering, here’s your remedy. I learned a lot about pink eye. First, it doesn’t always mean you have red, pink or green goop coming from the eyes. According to Swami, over 1,000 mutations of this lovely, contagious affliction. Second, not all eyes are pink. Some are red, like the vampire-blood-God we remember from Blade. Finally, an extreme aversion to light is common. Any light. Oh, and shall I say single versus double pink eye. Just means both eyes are afflicted instead of one.
It went down like this. Day one in Mexico, we arrive, hit the pool about 4:15, have a great time. It’s a bit windy though, and around 5, my two-year old is a bit chilled, despite the 80 degree temp (us Washingtonians aren’t used to water and warmth in the dead of winter). By dinner, she’s hot and by 8 she’s feverish, sweating and unhappy. Suffice it to say, I’m up all night with a sweating, crying child, but at 3 am, I line up my containers of emergency homeopathic remedies I take on trips, say a prayer of desperation (since I can’t call my swami) and get the feeling to give her Mercurius. 15 min later, the fever breaks. The following morning, (Day 2) I lose my mind an accidentally give her Arsenicum (usually taken for food poisoning). Sure enough, after we eat breakfast, around 10 am, we are preparing for the pool and said daughter groans, pauses, then projectile-vomits all over me before turning to the bed. Invoking the speed and agility of Neo, I lurch forward, putting myself between me and the mattress, a flash of Santa’s appreciation for sparing the hotel clean-up staff’s a nausea-inducing mess.
I was successful.
The spray on me continued, then finally ended with one final, gasping ‘splat.” Rog and my 6 yr old looked at me with horror, the equivalent of watching a wreck in slow motion. Rog did offer to help, but the reluctant arm, outstretched as far as his body would allow without touching me was enough. “I got it,” I mumbled.
Fast forward. Gave daughter another hit of Mercurius and she was fine. Gah! The family gets ready to leave for the pool, I take a nap and wake up 3 hours later ready to get wet.
|Day 5. I can open, but need to use shades. (and what's up|
with those Barron Harkonen eyebrows. yikes!)
I go down. I get wet. I go under the water. At approximately 3:15 pm, both eyes start stinging. Bad. The stinging began with the familiar feeling of tired, dry eyes. It digressed from there. By 5 pm, I could barely keep them open to see the light, but the sun was going down, so I figured I’d just deal with it. Before dinner, I removed my contacts, flushed my eyes, applied make-up and went to eat. As the night wore on, the stinging grew worse. It hurt to have my eyes open, but it was twenty times more painful when I shut my eyes.
I kept my mouth shut and eyes open…all night. At seven am, day 3, I called Swami. I get half-way through the first sentence and he announces I have pink eye.
“But that can’t be right,” I contend. “My eyes aren’t— ”
“Are they pink or red?” He interrupts. Red. “Running fluid?” Yes. “You have pink eye.” He then informs me of the three points above, tells me to stop interrupting and start taking Aconitum. “Do you have any?” I brought 4 vials. Another example of divine inspiration (or pragmatism, if you listen to Rog). “Take it every two hours, or more frequent if you don’t see improvement.”
Thus, I start taking Aconitum. The pain started to alleviate around noon, but it didn’t matter. It was physically impossible to open my eyes due to light sensitivity. I was in the room, blinds drawn, not even able to turn on the tv, use the phone, my computer—nada. It was excrutiating. Furthermore, it was still too painful to close my eyes, and they remained open for another four hours. So I sat, in the dark, contemplating my navel, for six hours. (for my non-American readers, the phrase ‘contemplating my navel’ is akin to ‘watching the grass grow’ but a bit more…American). Just about the time the troops returned from the pool, it was getting dark and they were famished. I did what all non-celebrities with pink-eye in Mexico do. I donned my darkest shades and was off, squinting like weasel in heat, unable to walk w/out holding on to Rog’s arm or read the menu.
Thus it continued for days 4, 5, 6 and 7. The majority of the pain went away before my tolerance to light improved. Day 8, I was able to go to the beach for the second time. I still had on glasses, the light still hurt, but at least I got some vitamin D.
While down at the hot tub (this is what families do at 9 in the morning. All the adults plow in to the hot tub as the kids are frolicking in the massive pool), I learn from one man that he and his daughter got pink eye the prior month. His lasted for three weeks. Another woman joined in the conversation, telling us her nephew got it the week prior. None were surprised by my experience, the transference from the water (and appreciation I wasn’t dipping my head under the surface).
Just a note on the water. Swami is convinced I got it from the water. I won’t describe the hotel, but it’s a high end hotel in Puerto Vallarta. It uses a saltwater/mild chlorine mix. I guess it was just my turn to get it.
Wait, there’s more. We left on Day 10. At the airport, my daughter’s eyes started running (both of them), she started complaining they were stinging. She’d been living in the pool (I’d made sure not to touch her or the others at all, since it only takes a contact to transfer pink eye). I immediately pulled out a vial, dropped a magical white bead in her mouth and did so, every half hour, for the entire flight. Though her eyes continued to run, she was eventually able to shut her eyes, and pass out.
We were lucky. I caught it early with her. It never evolved to the full-blown horrible state that I encountered. We got home, enjoyed Christmas in Idaho, snow skiing during the day and going to the indoor waterpark at night. We returned yesterday and last night, guess what. My 2 yr old got that glassy eyed look, started moaning “owwiieee” and rubbing both eyes.
Not again. Last night, I started the Aconitum. I’m on my last vial. She woke up this morning with one eye hardened shut from the goop that ran out her eye last night. Using a warm, wet washcloth, I carefully removed it. Thus, three pages of writing and one Polar Express movie later, you have the story.
The epilogue….though water transferrance happens, Swami says it happens all the time. "It's not just by hands and fingers pink-eye is transferred." I guess not. I had to take a break, run to the store and return. My daughter is now 14 hrs in, her eyes have stopped running and her happy mood has returned. Next time someone wants to run you, your kid or friend to the doctor for some antibiotics for pink eye, go to PCC or a healthfood store instead. Go natural and be done w/it in 24 hrs.