Sharing the lessons along the way…

20 Frantic Minutes

“Gosh, my purse feels awfully light.  I wonder why?”

Glancing in it, I didn’t see my wallet.

“Hmmm.  I wonder if it is there and under something?”

Standing in line to check out at the store, I couldn’t stop thinking about the need I had to dump out my purse to look for it.

I dumped it as soon as I got back to my car. It really wasn’t in there.  I started mentally retracing the steps of my day.

“If it isn’t in there, there where could it be?”

On my way to the eye doctor, I felt it coming.  The ocular migraine/visual migraine/migraine aura is what “they” call it.  I call it scary when I am driving my car.  My experience of this is that part of my visual field is replaced with bright flashing light with dark jagged, squiggly lines.

I can still see out of the rest of my visual field, but I tend to panic when it happens and I am driving.

Arriving without incident to the eye exam, I then listened to my eye doctor joke with me about my birthday and graduation to bifocals.  Then he dilated my pupils for the rest of the exam.

Already light and sun sensitive before I arrived, I then became more so.  I stuck around to pick out new frames.  Even the sales woman commented on how huge my pupils were and how well my eyes dilated for the doctor.

English: Representation of an European roundab...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My trip home was almost amusing.  I didn’t just squint from the brightness of the sun.  I found myself squinting as cars approached, braked, turned, or signaled.  Pedestrians seemed to be jumping out of the pavement of the streets.

I ended up on a road with a roundabout.  I recognized this roundabout as the one I do wrong every time.  I dead-ended into a crack neighborhood.  With my pupils still large, I imagined someone mistaking me for a member of the crack community before I could get turned back around to try the roundabout again.

The headache was starting inside my left eye.  I needed darkness and my sunglasses weren’t providing it for me.  It was like driving home in a time warp of bright lights, and I wasn’t sure I was ever going to pull into my driveway.

Hours later, I graduated to sunglasses again inside, then to regular glasses and the sun finally went down.  I decided to run out to the store since I couldn’t on my way home from the eye doctor.

Did I leave my wallet at the eye doctor?  I couldn’t remember going anywhere else.  I looked in my car (57 times) and after the fifty-somethingth time, I remembered that I used my debit card from my wallet after the eye doctor to get gas.

By then, I had already called the eye doctor’s office and had them looking for a poorly described pouch with a broken zipper.

Twenty very frantic minutes later, I made a final car search and returned empty-handed inside to my living room.  I looked once more in the chair where I flung my purse when I had arrived home.  Nothing.  Damn.

I hung my head, defeated.  The wallet was stolen from my car or was hiding in the ether, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t find it.

As I looked down exasperated and making a mental list of the items I would need to replace, there it was!  It was on the floor beside the chair.  I called the eye doctor’s office back and I let them know it was my mind that was lost instead of my wallet.


Comments on: "20 Frantic Minutes" (2)

  1. I call my car the Bermuda Triangle because I’ve lost keys and my reader glasses there but they are nowhere to be found. It drove me nuts because there was no other place they could be. I know I left them in the spot I always do but when I went to the spot to retrieve them, they disappeared, never to be found!


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