Well, it’s finally done. I just finished all the inspections, negotiation, offers, paperwork, and bank wire necessary to buy a house. Of course, Jen and I have already gone through all of this after moving out of Urbana, but this time the house wasn’t for us, but for my mother.
I got my second eye injection on Thursday, and so far the experience has been roughly the same. My eye’s still a bit score and scratchy, but oddly enough, I don’t seem to have gained any more floaters compared to the last injection. The doctor says the bleeding under my macula appears to be receding and suggested I may not need any further shots after this one. We’ll see in six weeks, I suppose.
While I was vacuuming up some fur-based tumbleweeds around the house Sunday morning, I noticed that it seemed as if I’d stared too long into a light bulb. That misshapen blob that suggests light has seared an indelible purple smear into my vision until it eventually fades. “Huh, the bathroom lights must be brighter than I thought,” I thought to myself. I shrugged in annoyance and kept vacuuming.
Well I just discovered something pretty interesting while watching a conference talk from Christian A Stewart-Ferrer. He’s a psychologist that seems to specialize in autism-spectrum disorders, and he spent roughly three hours outlining tendencies and dispositions of people with Asperger Syndrome.
In late August 1999, a long-haired calico known only as “Mama kitty” due to her numerous pregnancies gave birth to a litter of kittens in a garage on a farm somewhere in Iowa. Winter came early that year and was not kind. The kittens quickly succumbed to upper respiratory infections that eventually spread to their sinuses and eyes, sealing them shut behind a wall of crust. They all needed to see a vet, and fast.