Last summer I started outlining my shower routine as an exercise in process documentation and it was pretty damn boring so I never posted it. But if there’s one thing I’d remove from the list it’d be washing eyelids.
They’ve probably gone years without a cleaning, your eyelids, right. Who the hell washes their eyelids? I clean nearly every part of my body except them.
Sometimes I’ll gingerly wipe them with a face cloth, but tonight I shut them tight and went at them with a sudsy vigor I normally reserve for behind my ears. I thought I’d have a brief window between scrubbing my eyelids and rinsing them off, but I’d gone too far.
It burned. Oh sweet mother they are still B-Urning! Oh my god it’s like acid under my lower lids.
I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn’t hear with the soap in my ears and I was blind, loosing my balance. My body was writhing and in my head I could hear the echoes of my moaning. I was in a room of red scratching pain, looking at the back of my mouth and the back of my eyes and trying to think what I should do about it.
And the water was too hot and it was like intensifying the suds. I was groping for the tap to turn the temperature down. And rubbing my eyes made it worse until I actually couldn’t open them anymore. I kept thinking about that fry pan of curry sauce on the stove at Dan and Jen’s potluck last night, the way it bubbled and simmered with red and brown spices.
I managed to get out of the shower. Now I am weeping uncontrollably, especially from my right eye, the thing is bloody red. I think it is actually bleeding, my lower right eye lid, on the inside.