Jalapeño Eye

I leaned my hips against the bathroom sink, bracing for pain, as my finger moved closer to my eye and the contact lens came into focus. “Maybe this morning will be different,” I told myself. “There shouldn’t be any pain, I took care of that, and I was probably overestimating the heat last night anyway.” I bent my knees slightly, trying to give myself a neutral stance should something horrible happen as the tiny lens docked with my eyeball. And we…have…contact. The pain was immediate and searing, like extra coarse sand paper and red hot pokers and molten lava all converging on my left eye. Fucking jalapeño eye!

It’s a rookie mistake I seem to make over and over and over…and over again. In slicing the little green pepper for my improvised Mexican lasagna last night I was careless, I was cocky. “Jalapeño eye can’t get me again,” I laughed and silently mocked the pinky sized vegetable in front of me. I even half-heartedly used the thin plastic produce bag as a glove but tossed it aside as I removed the seeds. The last couple jalapeños I brought home were mild at best so why would this one be any different? The first bite told me that this one was in fact very different. I enjoyed the taste of Mexican cheesy goodness and broke into Lamaze breathing to cool my mouth that had suddenly burst into flames. It was hot, but almost enjoyable, like the dry heat of a Colorado summer day before the threat of a high-altitude sunburn chases me into the basement. Eric and I took turns falling backward, talking about how hot the peppers were, as if we’d forgotten each previous bite of jalapeño and were experiencing them anew. Good times, and a great Mexican lasagna if I do say so myself.

Later, while chewing on my nail I realized how stupid I’d been. The spicy heat residue was still on my fingers, even after repeated hand washing, and it was in there deep. But the longer I chewed on my nails, the weaker the heat seemed to be. Was this all it took to beat the pepper? Removing the top layers of finger epidermis like a psycho-killer Kevin Spacey in Se7en? Yes! I beat it. I beat the jalapeño eye, I am the winner! And so I popped out my contacts, stowed them in their separate little saline baths, and went to bed victorious. So why then was I less than confident this morning as my contact balanced on my finger and traveled toward my frightened eyeball?

Cue worst pain ever.

The palms of my hands flew to the eye, trying to ease the pain with pressure. I quickly ran in place, hoping the throbbing energy would change direction and be released through the balls of my feet. She’s a maniac, maaa-niac on the floor. I’m sure my downstairs neighbor was super stoked at 6:30 AM as the floor of my bathroom is like one huge squeaky spot. Only halfway done, there’s still the right eye. Just do it, do it quick. I don’t know that it was possible to feel more pain than the first eye, but this was pretty close. I tried to walk it off, leaving the bathroom and bumping into the living room door frame and then the couch as I had both of my eyes covered. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I wanted to scream. “I’ve just blinded myself,” I panicked, “I’m going to recover from this pain only to open my eyes and realize that I’m completely blind. I’ll never be able to see the autumn leaves change all my favorite colors again. Done are the days of meditating on a Rothko or Mondrian. I didn’t get to finish Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I was only halfway through season six before I blinded myself with a jalapeño pepper!” The tears of pain were mixed with those of a blind woman who felt completely and utterly sorry for herself. But then the fear was miraculously pushed back, apparently I still had some fight left in me. I forced my eyelid open and plucked out the contact flicking it in the direction of the trash can, and then the other eye. I took a couple deep breaths. I did it. I’m going to make it. I really do need to bite the bullet and make and appointment for Lasik because something tells me that jalapeño eye will continue to be a problem until I can cut out the middle man.

Oh, and the leaves have turned a beautiful October crimson on Carmelita if anyone’s interested.