Sunday is a traditional pub day, so it only fitting that we mark it with a photo (of Mark) in a pub.

Over the course of this first week, I have found myself spending a bit too much time checking out the stays for this blog. How many visits? What do my visitors read? Where do they come from? Et cetera ad nauseum.

The answers are this: You (the reader) like trauma and pain. Ow, my eye has been by far my most popular post, and the further we get from trauma, the fewer visitors.

Of course, the update to my statistics plug-in that I installed this morning broke the blog, so I had to disable it. This weekend I’ll look for a replacement. Even if I someday find a more popular topic, I may never be sure if you like it as much – unless my web host has sufficiently detailed stats, any comparison will be disjointed.

Although I suppose I could always poke myself in the eye again. For science.

I’m starting to think that I chose my domain name too soon. This blog is about nothing but eyes. That said, I’m going to blog about my left eye some more. About my left eye and goo.

The treatment is pretty simple: Put ointment in my eye four times a day. The ointment is the consistency of vaseline, and delivered via a dispenser that resembles a miniature toothpaste container. What I need to do is pull out my bottom eyelid and squeeze some in. And wait while it warms up to body temperature, and becomes a bit more gooey. And then finally release the bottom eyelid.

There are two problems with this process: Missing and blinking.

First, missing: This is not as easy as it may sound. Sometimes it ends up outside the bottom eyelid, rather than inside.

Second, blinking: Holding your eye open for over 30 seconds is not easy. You end up blinking. Which often causes the ointment to leave the eye, and end up on the outside of the bottom eyelid.

So far, I have applied the ointment six times. The average attempt seems to involve both missing (multiple times) and blinking (at least once). Each attempt increases the difficulty level — the vaseline-like ointment coats the bottom eyelid, making it hard to hold it open. It slips closed, causing more misses. And more mess.

And you can’t just wash it off, no. It doesn’t come off easily, and you can hardly vigorously scrub the bottom eyelid of an injured eye.

I have no idea where I’m going with this. Just don’t stick your finger in your eye, OK?