That was the winter of the eye goop. The winter I became a monster of mechanics. I’d heat compresses in the microwave until they were almost too hot to touch, then press them to her closed lid, watching the dried mucus soften and liquefy. I’d hold her arms down with one elbow while my other hand worked the massage, my thumb chafing raw. She learned to hate my touch. She’d turn her face away, press her cheek into the mattress, hide the offending eye.
A balloon. In my one-year-old’s tear duct. Inflated to stretch the scar tissue. Because I had massaged and probed and compressed my way into making everything worse. how do you unblock a tear duct
We canceled the balloon. I stopped the massages. I threw away the last box of sterile gauze. That was the winter of the eye goop