The Peppered Eye

Pepper is a wonderful thing!

It creates a little spark of fire in the throat and a tingle on the tongue when properly applied. It can mean all the difference between a salad that is just okay, and a salad that is amazing. Pepper is great with eggs and bacon, adds a touch of class to a humble homemade hash and turns a bowl of stew into something worth eating.

But one thing pepper does NOT enhance. . . my eyeball.

I feel like half of my skull is on fire and the flames are licking out of my right eye socket.
HOLY FLAMING CAT SNOT AND FIERY DEATH!!! OOOOOOOOOHHHHH!! This is a pain that should be inflicted on some of the bad people of our world!!

Based on the suffering I am having to endure at my own hand, I'm not sure my love affair with pepper will last much longer if this inferno doesn't get extinguished soon.

Is it possible to go blind by accidental peppering of the eyeball? Can you die from it? Right now, both questions are up for grabs. Can someone PLEASE hose off my eye? I can't possibly be the only one who sees these vivid flames curling up from under my eyelids!!

The sad tale of woe that brought us to this point isn't monumental, unless we are measuring stupidity. Confessing that while I am not more than a modest home cooking kind of gal, I do humbly state that I enjoy cooking most of the time. I like making things that my family will actually want to eat. To that end, I have a little Ziploc bag with some fresh, coarsely ground pepper in it. My supply is dwindling by the day. But ham and navy bean soup needs a bit of pepper to help it cook along, right? A little of the supply must be sacrificed for the soup to have the taste that it needs.

Plunging my clean hand into the bag, I gathered up a couple of pinches of pepper... enough to season not to scorch. After extending the sprinkling of the vital grains over the beans in the Crock pot, I washed my hands. You can't be too careful.

Careful. HA!

I laugh at myself through my tears.

Apparently, one tiny, minuscule hardly even worth mentioning let alone seeing grain of pepper was chameleon-like in its skill and ability to camouflage itself against my finger into flesh tones with a cunning that the military would love to possess. The tenacity with which it clung to my skin even through the washing and drying process would give Velcro a run for its money.

Innocent in my understanding of the tragedy about to befall me, I went to go about my daily morning activities. While sitting at my desk, I casually rubbed my eye.

With fire.

Does the fact that it was completely unintentional matter?

At this point, I am certain that my right eye will never be on speaking terms with me again.

Murine Plus drops, generic store brand drops, water right out of the sink... all have been applied in a liberal deluge to my deeply offended eye and its mucous membranes. They are reporting with great accuracy that the savage attack has left them both irritated beyond all measure for polite society, but that they are now planning some kind of retribution that will involve me having blurred vision for quite some time today.

It is open war.

My protestations that the offending particle of pepper have now been most assuredly washed from the battlefield of topical violence does nothing to sway the eyeball. It has its mind made up. I will now be compelled to walk through this morning with a blurry reminder that the peppered eye is not what's for dinner.

The sting is down to a dull roar now. I have this odd slimy feeling on my eyeball that tells me the mucous membranes surrounding my eye have indeed gone into full battle mode and applied riot gear as they slime coat all the surfaces of the eye to continue forcing the contaminant and the effects of same to retreat from the battle.

It seems to be working.

Perhaps in due time, my eye will forgive me.

But I have the sinking feeling that the next time I reach for my little bag of pepper, my right eye will involuntarily slam shut and refuse to assist in the cooking until the all clear has been sounded by the left eye.

Who knew plain old table top cooking pepper was such a deadly weapon?

Perhaps the stores need to sell it by permit only.

Hmm. Yet another governmental intervention for the perpetually stupid.

*SIGH*

Someone really needs to save me from myself.