The Cure For Vanity

I had just finished up a rigorous Friday afternoon workout, an hour and a half affair of muscle-toning weight training followed by a 3.5 mile run outside in the heat. There was prodigious amounts of natural sweating produced by all of this activity, then some cheap sweat from a fifteen minute session in the steam room. Nevertheless, I was feeling quite accomplished by the time I got home, reasoning that few 60 year olds would put themselves through such a regimen. I was not allowing myself to give in to the relentless physical decline which comes with age. I was raging against the dying of the light, to butcher a little Dylan Thomas. Part of my workout routine is the result of genuine concern for my ongoing health. But, honestly...most of it springs from vanity. This is the one downside of marrying someone younger and more beautiful than you. You’ve got to keep up, man.

So, I get back to the house, throw on a nice pair of dress shorts and a stylish shirt and eagerly await my wife’s return from her Friday afternoon volunteer shift at Hope Thrift. It is our night to go out for dinner. Tonight would be a date with Mission Barbecue, and I wanted to look my best for her, determined to put my best face forward, so to speak.

We arrive at MB on this gorgeous evening where, as usual, the food is sensational. I ordered something new...cheese and jalapeño infused sausage, along with my usual sides of macaroni and cheese and kickin collard greens. Things were going very well. Pam looked great and I was keeping up. Then, out of nowhere, it happened. I started feeling something happening to my face. It was subtle at first, but then more noticeable. I excused myself and retreated to the bathroom on a reconnaissance mission. The mirror revealed that it was not, in fact, my imagination. Something was happening to my right eye, and that something involved swelling.

Now, at this point I suppose I could share a picture of my eye for illustration purposes, but my vanity and self respect argue against that idea. Words will have to suffice. Simply stated, it’s as if someone with a hypodermic needle decided to fill my eyelid, along with the place normally occupied by dark circles, with water. The resulting image is quite disgusting, making me look like Joe Frazier after the Thrilla in Manila. So, now instead of a semi-handsome, well preserved husband, Pam has to look across the table at a guy who is looking more and more like Elephant Man with each passing hour. This morning, it is much worse, a disturbing sight. I have taken Benadryl and administered eye drops, so far without positive result.

This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. Several times I have come down with grotesquely swollen eyes. The cause remains a mystery, and no remedy has been found. It just runs its course, taking its good old time. Meanwhile, I wear dark sunglasses and remind myself that this too shall pass. Luckily, my wife understands that beauty is more than skin deep, and in my case...way more!!