Censoring the selfie

So i woke today looking like the daughter of the elephant man. One eye was reduced to a watery slit encased in a swollen, angry eye socket. So instead of flying to Townsville today, spending the evening at a lovely hotel, going out for dinner with colleagues tonight, I’ve stayed at home all day, except for am emergency dash to my doctor and a pharmacy. Incognito.


We wake early in these parts so I had plenty of time to take numerous selfies of my disgusting eyeball plus do some self diagnosis. My local GP clinic opens at 8am so I had plenty of time to imagine the worst, look at myself alot and of course utilise the ‘real life’ medical skills I  learnt on House to come up with a cracking diagnosis.  We all know how much our doctors love us when we come in with a mystery illness but have a plethora of possibilities. No Lydia, you were not bitten by a tzetze fly!

I work at a Uni, I know about evidence based practice, health search engines etc.but oh no, in times of personal health crises, there is only Google.  So After searching various words like watery, swollen and eye sockets I spent about half an hour dry wretching and totally grossing myself out looking at images.  Yep, you guessed it, top of the self diagnosis list was ‘pink eye’.  Thanks South Park for bringing this word into my vernacular.  The other fun one was the ‘stye’. There is a medical name for this, but I’ve already forgotten it.  Wasn’t relevant to me, no need to store that in my limited memory bank.

I was pretty sure it was an allergic reaction, it happened really quickly, like about 10 seconds after taking my contacts out before bed.  Dur you say,a good non-doctor always considers all possibilities dear Watson.  But what did I react to?  Naturally I have discussed this topic ad nauseaum with every person I have encountered today.  2 people said shellfish – omg we had prawns for dinner last last and I stabbed myself badly in the finger whilst peeling those spiky buggers.  But we eat prawns like all the time!  I caught 2 moths last night (as an aside, have you noticed that moths only nibble on the nicest fabrics?), I do the catch and release method with a quick dash outside, no kissing and one of them was particularly crumbly.  He left alot of moth dust on my fingers. Have you ever heard of a moth reaction?  No jokes please about the butterfly effect, all over that one.  Other than that, the night was normal.  The wine I had had the night before, a strong cuppa and a piece of kitkat before bed, nothing out of the ordinary.

So back to the title, should I share my disgusting selfies?  I always take photos of myself at my worst, I just never publish them. I always show them to the Gorgeous M, he has a razor sharp sense of humour and is merciless – laughing in the face of imminent death is always a good potion. I usually send them to my glamorous sister (accompanied by a death threat if ever she thinks about sharing it) and friends at work, but I just haven’t had the guts to put them on this glorious blog (as read by about 10 peoples).  Last year I cracked a front crown (front tooth) and the day the dentist drilled off the old crown and revealed the little stump of remaining tooth I made him stop so I could get a few selfies.I even brought props with me to the dental clinic.  He thought I was nuts and kindly hoped that I would never need to return.  I revenged him but, I have a new nicer dentist thank you very much, ha I say!  Don’t ever cross me, I will run and hide from you.

So dear readers, do you self diagnose, are you a hypochondriac and what do you think I may have reacted to?