I've Got My Eye on You

"So you're from Durango. What brings you to Albuquerque?" the hotel receptionist asked Nick.

"Here to get an eyeball, actually."

Silence.

"Well I've always loved Durango. It's a lovely place."

He didn't laugh until we were in the glass elevator - Cayenne's eyes wide as we sprang away from the ground and flew up eight stories - but he giggled every time he thought of it during our yummy Thai meal that evening.

After Nick suggested he get a blue eye to go with his golden brown one, friends' ideas came flying in: What about purple? No wait! How about words painted in a spiral on the iris saying,  "I've got my eye on you," or "Here's looking at you, kid," or "What are you looking at?" Or an aquarium with a fish that swims back and forth. Or an eye that boings by itself like a bobblehead?

But as Friday morning gave way to afternoon, stroke upon tiny stroke of browns, yellows, blacks and blue paint blended into a carbon copy not only of Nick's right eye, but also, it just so happened, of Cayenne's eyes - pretty wild! I had high hopes that this was going to be one of the easy steps in this whole palava, but nothing is going to be easy methinks. Once the iris was painted onto the custom-molded prosthetic alongside delicate red silk threads that look like blood vessels, it was covered in an acrylic-like coating, cured, polished, and inserted under Nick's eyelid.

Around this time the girls and I were getting charged by a Sichuan Tagin at the zoo. I think she wanted Acacia's snowcone because those animals looked hot! We were checking out a lion when Nick phoned to say he was right behind us on the Cat Walk. Perfect timing as we'd already been through Africa, Australia, Asia - sounds like my 20s! - and the sea lion exhibit, and the zoo was about to close. We met him by the stunning snow leopards. He took off his sunglasses and my heart sank just a hair because I knew we'd be coming back to ABQ. I realised then how much I'd been hoping this would be a one-step deal. That said, he'll need this eye polished annually, and a new eye every 5-10 years, so really this is a never-ending deal.

The ocularist has been making eyes for 31 years - ever since he lost his own left one in a car accident - so he knows what he's doing and I trust his experience when he says he made the eye a bit big on purpose. He says Nick's socket may sink a little and it'll fit better. We're to go back in July to fix it if necessary, but either way Nick will be seeing the surgeon eye doc there because the eye doesn't quite move right. I think he needs a peg in it. Not all do, but it's disconcerting when Nick looks down (as you tend to do when you're 6'4") and one eye looks over my head.

I've been gazing into ocular nothingness for months without a second thought, but now that we're trying to make it look better, we want it to look better, you know? It's cosmetic and Nick doesn't really care about looking normal, but when he decides to do something he doesn't go halfway (especially when insurance doesn't even pay halfway; they pay only a third of this part actually).

So... more waiting. It'll be fine in not a lot of time, but I was hoping for at least one "quick" fix. Sure was easier to break all these things than repair them, but at least most of it is reparable!