WhenI was in the fourth grade curiosity got the best of me.  I wish I could say this was the first and thelast time, but it wasn’t and i won't be.  Anyway, mycuriosity about the inner workings of an uncovered manual pencil sharpener gotthe best of me and a couple of my fingers. I will spare you the gory details, but let’s just say my teacher freakedout at the amount of blood pouring out my fingers as she abandoned the rest ofthe classroom and rushed me down the hall to the bathroom yelling, “Why onearth would you stick your fingers in the pencil sharpener!?”  Needless to say, I spent the rest of the daywith my hand above my head in the principal’s office – which was also thenurse’s office, only we didn’t really have a nurse.  Two of my fingers were torn to shreds and Iwas slightly disappointed they didn’t look more like a pencils once thebleeding stopped.  It didn’t take longfor my fingers to heal and I have no scars from that experience – except maybean irrational fear of uncovered manual pencil sharpeners.  There are two points to this story – yes,sometimes my stories have a point or two. There is nothing wrong with curiosity – just be careful where you stickyour fingers; and wounds – scrapes, bumps, bruises – heal.  Most of the time, pretty quickly.  The same is true of surgery incisions,headaches, ringing in the ears, palsy and swollen optic nerves. 

Duringmy first week home from the hospital, I had follow up appointments with mydoctors.  I was only home for 3 daysbefore I saw my eye doctor in his office for the first time.  I was still on copious amounts of drugs andnot moving very quickly, so leaving the house was a bit of challenge.  And I was pleased when I didn’t have to puton real pants, which, as you know, I believe are totally overrated, but Idigress. 

AndI guess curiosity got the best of my parents too, who at one point during theappointment pulled out what seemed like a shopping list for a small army butwas actually a list of questions for the doctor.  Looks like Big Jon has been on the internetlately, Googling his little heart out about my condition and my recovery.  My condition, to him, was like an uncoveredpencil sharpener to me (I would like to thank those little vocab. books I hadto fill out for years in school for that analogy).  Luckily, my amazing doctor sat therepatiently and answered all of my parent’s questions – all 187 questions.  Apparently my doctor is much more patientthan a pencil sharpener.  At one point mydad asked if I had something specific – I don’t even remember what – and mydoctor said yes, I did have signs of whatever it was he was asking about.  My mom turned to my dad and said, “What isthat again?” To which my dad answered, “I don’t know, but she has it.”  Thank God with all the limitation with my eyesI still had the ability to roll them.

Aftermy parents were done, my doctor turned to me and asked if I had any questionsto which I said, “Um, no I think my parents covered everything – and thensome.”  It’s good to have curious andinformed parents, I guess.  I wouldn’thave thought to ask 90% of the questions they did – but put a cylinder of razorblades that move in a circle in front me and I have no problem sticking myfingers in.  I am sure they didn’t needto ask 50% of the questions they did.  Butat the same time, I probably could have gotten a good idea as to how a pencilsharpener worked by looking at it as opposed to sticking my fingers in it, buthey, now I know.