In my last post I alluded to a problem that Thelma has had with one of her eyes. Here's the goss...
Fate can be a bit of a meanie sometimes. In the last week she has seen fit to visit an eyeball condition upon Thelma. This eyeball condition involves a swelling inside the eyelid and blurred vision in that eye.
What’s a girl to do, less than a week before becoming a sophisticated international jetsetter?
This was the scene, three days ago:
Thelma stares fuzzily at the prospect of travelling to England looking like a Cyclops. Betty tries to be helpful.
'Does G Garb do a line in pirate hats? You could wear an eye- patch. That would look a bit swashbuckling and sophisticated.'
Thelma’s lumpy stare is frosty. 'No pirate hats, no eye-patches', she hisses. 'I’m not meeting Simply Red looking like Johnny Depp with boobs!'
Betty thinks Johnny Depp is a bit of a dish, with or without boobs. 'You know, if you wore a puffy shirt you’d hide the boobs.'
A pulse throbs in Thelma’s neck. 'I want my eyeball to be fixed,' she says slowly. 'I don’t want a pirate hat, an eye-patch, a puffy shirt, a white stick or a bloody seeing eye dog (although I am rather partial to dogs).'
She’s right, you know. Sophisticated international jetsetters shouldn’t have to contend with lumpy eyeballs.
A problem is a problem, of course, and this one wasn't going away. So. Yesterday Thelma took her eyeball to a surgeon, who performed some sort of magic inside the eyelid, involving a bit of cutting and scraping (eeeewwww!) I am reliably informed that today Thelma resembles a gargoyle (only on one side, of course). On the plus side, apparently she has an eagle eye - two of them, in fact, (when they're both working). Which they will be, by Monday. Honest.
This is turning into an interesting week, and omigod, I still haven't packed my bag!