By TEDDY ALLEN/Designated Writers

Never had a stye

In my eye.

I will not lie.

No not I.

But…

(I’ll have

Pastrami

On rye.

Don’t ask me why.

Since I don’t even like pastram-eye.)

In the bye and bye

Maybe I

Will have a stye

Like a big pizza pie

That’s amore!

(With apologies to Dr. Seuss. And I apologize for the breakdown in iambic pentameter..)

Understandably, that ‘poem’ makes little sense. Even though it does sort of rhyme.

(I love Dr. Seuss but I am still a bit p’o’ed at him for writing a bestseller using only 26-or-so words and making more money than he can count. Doctors!)

The point is, my boy child had a stye this week. It’s been growing for several months. When he thought it might become a third eye or second nose, he went to the eye doctor. I went with him, for moral support. And because he couldn’t see.

A stye, i understand from studying up, is an oil gland that has become backed up. Sort of like a pimple on your eye lid. The opposite of joy. My guy’s grew until it was the size of a fist. The fist of a big man’s hand.

The doctor Sir Lancelot-ed it. (Lanced it. Cut it so the ‘bad’ would come out.) And then the patient/son had a big hole in his head, right below his right eye.

The body is amazing. It’s healed itself now, with the help of a little prescribed cream.

Of course, my guy got a virus, non-eye-related, 72 hours later. Such is life.

But this is the lesson. If you THINK you are getting a stye, get a warm towel and put it on your eye to draw the bad stuff out so it won’t become an Official Stye. Then you can self-lance. That will save you a trip to the doctor, plus a co-pay.

You’re welcome.

Break!

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