The Dangers of Needlework

This past weekend, my husband and I went on a mini-vacation to the beach. It started out wonderful. We stopped by to see my new nephew on our way there, and we also stopped at our religion’s temple in Washington DC. Then the real adventure began as we set out to uncharted territory (for us). My husband’s phone died about half an hour before we reached our destination. We had been using it for directions. It was a pretty straight shot from there to our hotel, so we weren't too worried. We stopped and had dinner at a wonderful Mexican restaurant and then made our way to the hotel.

The next morning we got up and went to the beach. We chose to go to the state park beach rather than the commercial beach. It was perfect for us. Since we got there in the morning, the beach was still pretty uncrowded. Neither of us had been to the Atlantic Ocean before, and I had only been to the Pacific once, earlier this year. It had been winter then, so this was also my first time getting in the ocean. We enjoyed getting in the waves, exploring the beach, and making sandcastles with the sandcastle-shaped bucket we bought. After a few hours of fun, we decided to return to the hotel for some lunch and to get out of the sun, since we were both starting to get red despite the sunscreen we’d put on.

After lunch, we hadn't decided yet what to do with our afternoon. So I turned on the TV and pulled out a cross-stitching project I had brought with me. It was enjoyable. But then, as I turned over the cloth, the corner of the fabric flipped up under my glasses and scratched my eye. It hurt! I went to the bathroom to try and look at it, but it was difficult to keep my eyes open. I could see, though that nothing was in it, even though it kind of felt like there was a straight line of something in it. The TV show was almost over. Once it was over, we turned off the TV. I explained to my husband what had happened and then asked him to give me a priesthood blessing. (In my religion worthy men are given the Priesthood. With the Priesthood they can give blessings of healing and comfort.)

After that, my husband suggested I lay down. He started looking for eye doctors in the area, since that was our first thought of where to turn to. He called one. They told him he needed to call a different place. He called that place, but they were closed. By this point, I was in shock and shaking all over. He then called our insurance’s nurse hotline. They recommended he take me to the ER, so that’s what we did. It hurt too much to open my eyes much, so my husband had to lead me around. It was an interesting experience.

When the doctor came to see me, she put some numbing drops in my eyes. This made it possible for me to open them. She put a dye in it and used a black light so it would easily show the damage. I had cut my cornea. My husband got to see all of this and thought it was pretty cool, except the part of me hurting, of course. The doctor told us that my eye would heal itself, gave me prescriptions for pain medicine and an eye ointment, and told me to see an eye doctor on Monday.

It was nice to be able to see some as we left the hospital, though my vision was a bit blurry and my eye bothered me some. We went to a nearby pharmacy. They did not have the pain medicine we needed, so we decided to go to another pharmacy. By this point, the numbing of my eye was wearing off, and it was getting difficult to have my eyes open. We went to the next pharmacy, only to realize we’d left the prescriptions at the first pharmacy. We retrieved them and returned the second pharmacy. They were also out of the pain medicine. They called a nearby pharmacy, who also happened to be out of the pain medicine. They called another pharmacy and that pharmacy did have the medicine. So we went there, got the prescriptions filled and returned to the hotel.

At that point, it was too painful to really open my eyes. Opening my good eye made my injured eye hurt more, so I just kept them both closed. My husband got us food and packed up. The next morning we left, as scheduled. I still could not open my eyes without a lot of pain, even with taking the pain medicine. The drive home was long, especially since we ran into a number of traffic jams. We stopped by my sister’s house on the way back. We gave the sandcastle bucket to her 2-year-old son. I was glad I’d gotten to see her newborn on the way up, since I couldn't open my eyes on the return trip. We made it home safely.

The next morning, I could open my eyes some. It still hurt and was blurry, but at least I didn't have to be led around everywhere. The first available appointment for the eye doctor had been on Tuesday, but my brother was scheduled for an eye doctor appointment on Monday. My mom was able to get the appointments switched. The eye doctor told me it had healed up nicely and would finish healing up over the next month, at which point it shouldn't be blurry and sensitive anymore. Now, over a week after the original accident happened, my eye doesn't bother me much and is only a little blurry. I am very grateful. I even worked on some cross-stitching last night (a different project).

I have pricked by finger on needles—drawn blood even with the duller cross-stitching needles, burned myself with hot glue, and cut myself with scissors, but this freak accident was definitely my worst crafting injury. One friend jokingly commented, “I've warned you about that extreme cross-stitching,” but despite this injury, I will continue crafting.