remembrance of things forgotten

I was hard at work all morning on the 2nd draft of my book. I broke for lunch, and relaxed with an episode of "Law and Order". I was well into my afternoon session of revision when it suddenly occurred to me: I hadn't taken my father-in-law to his lunchtime date at the church hall. At 2.30 pm itwas too late; they had all gone home by now. My only consolation? there's no way he'd remember now, at 4 pm, whether he had gone or not. People must be given respect, whether they remember it or not, and today I failed him. I'll do better next week.

1 DROP 4 TIMES A DAY EACH EYE AND A WORM AT NIGHT

Sums up the treatment regime for my Fuch's dystrophy pretty neatly. The learning curve for the drops has been steep; I got the swing of it quickly. The worm, however, is more of a challenge. One has to squeeze a "worm" of ointment from a tiny tube, which somehow must find itself into the pouch formed when the lower eyelid is pulled outwards. Is it easy getting it in there? Is it fuck. I keep either missing, or raking at my eyelid with the end of the tube, which I'm sure isn't a good thing. But I'll keep trying. After all. I've got the rest of my life to train myself to perfection.