back to life, back to reality

(for you young'uns, that's the lyrics from a song)

Sometime during my restful night, the slowly diminishing air bubble in my eye split into three parts.  So now it looks like a big circle body, with a little circle head on top (squashing down into the body), with a smaller earring circle on his left (my right).  Yes, this is how I amuse myself.  I think I'll name him Toby. 

I'm back at work today and on back-to-back corporate conference calls.  Because there are no visuals for my calls, I'm playing with twisting and turning Toby in my eyeball.  I can only do this with my head straight down, eyes open or closed.  I managed to flip his earring to the other side.  No fkn idea how though, but he looks more piratical this way.  I'd like to join the bubbles back together because Toby is a bit distracting, as you might imagine.

Planning the murder of Toby...

Does this warrant a call to my surgeon's office? 

Doctors' Office: "Hello, may I help you?" 
Wendy: "Yes, I need to kill Toby.  What's the best way?  For me and for him?" 
Doctors' Office: "Ummm, what?" 
Wendy: "I don't want to damage my eye.  Or hurt Toby overmuch.  How do I off him?" 
Doctors' Office: hopeful tone in her voice "Wrong number?" 
Wendy: "Oh, right, I guess so, since you ignore any Advance Directive during surgery.  Thanks anyway.  Goodbye." 
Doctors' Office: very relieved  "...??"

I'll skip the call and just hang with Toby until he offs himself.  By the way, you read that correctly.  They explicitly informed me TWICE that they would ignore any advance directive I might have.  It vexed me on principle, but I didn't expect it to come up during eye surgery.   For any of you not in the know (and too lazy to click the link above), an advance directive is a euphemism for saying if shit hits the fan, just let me die. 

Which they will promptly ignore, even if I have a legal document requesting that.  Fuckers.