last week around midnight I'm taking a break
my digital labors, loping in the dark towards
the kitchen for a well-deserved snacky-cake,
when I notice a curious glint off the rim
glasses. I glance around for the source
of the light but there's nothing to be seen.
I plod awkwardly on towards the kitchen,
still half-noticing a flicker of light on
of my vision every now and again, particularly
on my right side. I finally take my glasses
off and give
look, just in case tiny aliens had infiltrated
the temples and were trying to get my attention
with a miniature Aldiss lamp. That's when
I realized the flash of light was coming
from my right eye.
It didn't do it all the time, I had to flick my eyes
back and forth to see it but it was like a big halo around
the perimeter of my sight, very
briefly, even with my eyes closed. I mused that Superman probably
sees stuff like this all the time with those freaky eyes of his but even
possibility of his super-discomfort didn't balm my distress.
The next day I called my eye doctor but, after a
brief consult, I was steered towards a retinologist.
I didn't like the sound
that. Anything with "ologist" on the end
almost never comes cheap.
It was a couple of days until I could see him but I was
The Blob appeared.
As if to keep the Flash Creature company a blob of what
seemed like boogery mucus would dart in and out of my
field of vision. It didn't obscure my eyesight or anything,
it just sort of popped in and out playing a disturbing
As you might guess the night before the appointment
I'm sleepless. This can't be good, I tell myself repeatedly.
blind, it's all over, and I'll have to acquire some
sort of outrageously expensive guide
that's good with Photoshop. With my luck it'll be some
kind of animal that defends itself with bags of super-heated
slime. Or a real estate agent.
The day of the appointment finally arrives and the nurse
preps me for the doctor by torturing my eyes with lights and
salves and drops and discomfiting puffs of air. I accept
it all with my usual poise, muttering soft curses of
vengeance that will someday be mine.
I was then led to a small room and made to sit in a chair
with a large and disturbing contraption attached to it.
A tag reading "Made
In America" hung off it in exactly the same way
it might have hung from Minnie Pearl's hat. Frankly,
I didn't even
know we still made anything in America.
The doctor finally arrived and put the dreaded contraption
to work. It probed and strobed and inspected every corner
of my eye. Through some trick of the light
I was occasionally able to see the dainty veins that
laced the surface of my retina. It was ghastly.
Eventually the inspection was done and the doctor sat
back and, with an evil grin, told me that I was fine,
just getting old.
Well, hell, I could've told him that.
To be specific, I was told that there's a mucus layer
on the back of the eye. No doubt, I thought, the residual
vessel of youth
said the doc, my mucus was giving up the ghost and sloughing
off, giving the macula a noogie or
two for old times sake
way out. This was the cause of both the flashes of light
and The Blob.
"All very natural. It'll run its course and you'll be
fine in a couple of weeks," the doctor told me.
I have to say that I was very relieved to hear this.
I'm looking forward to being able to see with just enough
clarity in my old age to be able to hunt my victims down
with something besides just their scent.
I shake his hand and say thanks and head for the door.
That's when he tells me it'll eventually happen to the
left eye, too.
BTW, this is NOT the concept I had in mind when I sat
down to create today's comic. It's frustrating to spend
hours on a complex idea only to
have it fall apart in the third act at the last hour. This cartoon is one of
many reserves I keep stored under the mattress next to
my collection of emergency fapping rations. With any
luck I'll someday find the proper inspiration to
Get it? Symphony? Sym-funny?
Hah! I kill me.