The Elephant Man

Luckily, I have no client meetings today. The only people who will have to look at me are my wife, who kind of has to, the guys and girls at the office, who will find it all very entertaining, and my assistant, who will be highly compensated for her trouble. You see, last night, at exactly 7:13—I was checking on the oven timer at the time—I felt a familiar pressure and heaviness in the corner of my left eye. I thought...Oh, crap.

Yes friends, once again I have been visited by what for me has become a hardy perennial...periorbital edema...or, if you prefer the Latin... hideously disgusting swollen eye. I will spare all of you a selfie.

What follows are the first responses I can expect from my buddies at work...and remember, these are my friends:

Holy s**t, what the heck happened to your eye??!!

Pam finally had enough of your smart mouth, huh?

I don’t know, I think it’s an improvement.

Then, my assistant will walk in, take one look and burst out laughing. She is not known for either grace or empathy where I am concerned. She’s more in the Oh, stop being a baby! school of nursing, which features a lot of pointing and laughing. Sometimes I think I could keel over in front of her, grasping my chest and she would say, O for heavens sake! Could you have at least signed these checks first? Honestly!!

When I woke up this morning, I knew instantly that it had gotten far worse during the night. No mirror was required, I just knew. The eye was heavy and I could barely see through the narrow slit that remained. When I finally steeled myself for a look, my instincts were validated. Holy Cow. After popping two Benadryl—the only known, sometimes effective cure—I looked again in the mirror. Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to tell you that no matter how attractive you think you are, and some of you are very attractive, one case of edema has the power to turn you into the Elephant Man.

So, this guy will be sporting a pair of thick, black shades today, indoors and out.

What a freak show!