As I was showering this morning, I reached for and opened the shampoo bottle, flipped open the lid, and squeezed out the standard blob needed to wash my hair. I do this every day. I have for years. Only this time, as I snapped the lid shut, I watched a tiny pin-head size droplet of shampoo fling off the hinged lid cap, and launch towards me. It took a millisecond, yet I watched it travel the entire distance from the lid of the bottle to my face. I had no choice, because it propelled directly into my right eye. I didn't even have time to react. I just saw an expanding white droplet approach, and my vision was suddenly blurred on one side. My eye was immediately coated with soap. For a brief moment, it was as if all fell silent around me; no water running, no splashing droplet, no hum of the exhaust fan... just my breathing. And I blinked. Then this clear and concise thought ushered in the pain to follow. "This is gonna sting".
And man oh man, did it. I rinsed the blob from my hand and pried my eyelid open as I worked to maintain a steady flow of water over the eyeball for a few minutes, river dancing all the while. (and for my squeamish readers, I apologize for that visual). I recalled the existence of those "Eye Wash" sinks that spray streams of water into ones eyes from each side, and wished I had one on hand at that moment. They have those special sinks anywhere you might expect somebody to run with their hands over their face, screaming, such as wood and metal shops, in labs and business where chemicals are openly used, and in the control booth for "The View".
