Plucky Letters to US soldiers in Iraq

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Dear Rob & Buddies,

I had to stay home from my exciting and lucrative job as a Lunch Lady today. I have a dreadful case of conjunctivitis (pinkeye) in my left eye. It itches, weeps, and constantly oozes a sticky fluid. It’s been doing this for days with no sign of stopping. It is red, irritated, and in general looks like a bloody mess. I went to the Doc-in-a-Box on Sunday in hopes of a cure. No joy.

The 14 year-old physician’s assistant on duty didn’t seem the least bit interested. He kept looking at himself in the mirror, probably admiring his brand new lab coat and the jaunty way he’d draped a stethoscope around his neck, ala Doogie Houser, MD.

He finally got enough of himself and looked at my eye while breathing bad breath in my face. He asked no questions about my very obvious runny nose and constant sneezing. He did not feel my neck for swollen lymph glands. He didn’t even bother to listen to me take deep breaths, which would at least have given him an opportunity to use his shiny new stethoscope.

After one last glace in the mirror, he said something like, “Yep, it’s conjunctivitis, alright.” (No shit, Doogie.) Then he slowly and very neatly wrote me an Rx for some kind of sulfa drops. You should have seen it- this was the most legible Rx I’ve ever seen in my life. It looked like a class writing assignment completed by an obsessive-compulsive calligraphy major. It was actually quite beautiful and, knowing it was probably useless in the treatment of my disease, I should have saved it to hang on my refrigerator.

The antibiotic eye-drops aren’t working, of course.

Even I know that a patient presenting with pinkeye in combination with an upper respiratory infection is likely suffering the adenoviral form of conjunctivitis. (Any lamebrain with internet access can find out that much!) Antibiotic drops won’t work; obviously I need topical vasoconstrictors (e.g., naphazoline) and steroids (Vexol, Flarex, Pred Forte) two to four times daily. Geez!

I called my primary care physician’s office four hours ago. I am still waiting for somebody to call me back so that I can inform them of the proper management of my case.


I’m enclosing an article from the Pantagraph. (No, I do not have “delusions of Grandma.”) It might be of interest because it’s about a grueling 24-hour swim practice held in honor of one of your fellow soldiers. His name is Glen P_______ and he’s a social studies teacher at Normal West. Perhaps you know the guy. Now I’m trying to think up some kind of honorary event on your behalf.

Maybe I can organize all the lab techs at Bromenn Hospital to pull a 24-hour blood draw or something of that nature. How ‘bout a 24-hour urinalysis? Volunteers could sit around drinking large bottles of water and compete every hour to see who can produce the most toxic or incriminating substances.

In the meantime, take care of yourselves, eat right, get plenty of rest, and avoid anyone with conjunctivitis. It’s a horrible disease causing much suffering and personal tragedy. Trust me; I know what I’m talking about here.

Much Love to all,

--An Army Mom