Cyclops’ story.

I’m sitting here and wracking my brains – trying to figure out how to share a story (with permission) that’s just so awesome that it has to be shared. The problem is, I usually try to make (often bizarre) connections between what I feel like writing about and music. It happens when you write this much!

The people that I ask to quote sometimes wonder how, exactly, I’m going to turn their story into something to do with music. Me too! I’m glad we’re on the same page! The last time this happened, it was a ‘crazy_eyes story’ and when he asked how I’d turn it into an article, I said, “Trust me, I’m a doctor!”

This story, however…

Hmm… I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I don’t think I can tie it into music – unless I really cheat. I’m going to have to cheat and, frankly, the excuse is to simply tell you this story. This story is that awesome.

If you’ll allow me some artistic license, I can do it. Stand back, for we shall try literature! It’s a little weak, but it’s all I can come up with. I have complete faith that you’ll understand the situation that I’m faced with, once you’ve read the story.

~*makes mysterious eerie sound-effects*~ (Ed. Note: Must someday write about theremin.)

(This is so cheesy.)

In the past, I’ve written about a few things – with some consistency. I’ve often mentioned that playing a musical instrument, specifically a guitar, will expose you to interesting people.

I have also taken the time to write about people who have overcome obstacles and made works of art. For instance, one of our guitarists better than Hendrix played that shit with just two fingers – Django Reinhardt.

I can’t say that being a cyclops is actually any specific obstacle to playing a guitar. I can’t say that it imposes any serious limitation on one’s ability to create music with a guitar.

But, we have a new participant in our guitar threads and he’s a fucking cyclops!

If you don’t think that’s fucking awesome, you’re on the wrong site!

Damned right, I’m gonna ask that person some questions!

Way back at the start, I was under the impression that their story was even more awesome than it really was. Well, I was really hopeful. Oh, man… I was sure hopeful! Initially, they indicated that they ripped an eyeball out of their own face – in a fit of (I think) rage and anguish. My very first thought was, “Wait, what?”

I can’t really think of anything more metal than ripping your own eye out of your face because you’re angry at it. I can’t condone that behavior, but I can certainly be curious! (Please don’t rip your own eyeball out of your face. My lawyer would want me to add that. Please don’t rip your eye out and then sue me, thanks.)

So, I learned all about how Cyclops really became a cyclops. There were a bunch of unfamiliar names in this week’s guitar thread, and Ol’ Cyclops was one of them. Like I’ve said, you’ll be exposed to some interesting people! That’s justification enough to share this tale.

It is with his permission that I retell this story. Like normal, I’ll do some editing but only for readability and grammar reasons. They did a very, very good job of giving me text to work with and they were gracious enough to let me give their story a wider audience.

Without further ado, the story of Cyclops:

In the beginning…

Many years ago, in that smallest of environmental niches where the mountains no longer support tree life, there were two happy cyclops living in a very well furnished, mid-market cave. They decided they loved each other very much and, as things are wont to happen, they soon had a baby cyclops who has lead a merry and adventurous life just to be with us here today!

In my imagination, that’s the truth of the matter. Further, I consider that matter settled.

But, like I said, the truth is not that awesome – just pretty close to that awesome. And, also like I said, my first response to their claim of being an actual cyclops was, “Wait, what?” Which they helpfully answered! This is what he had to say about the matter.

Let’s put our hands together and welcome Cyclops to the stage. He’s gonna tell us a story!

It all started one day back in the 1970’s, where a young Cyclops had cataracts so bad that they removed his lens. This made the left eye “legally” blind – because it couldn’t focus on anything very well. Shapes, colors, changes in light/dark, and recognize movement. Young Cy had a sense of humor even back then, so started going by Cyclops in his early teens.

Then, around 2010, poor Cyclops started getting headaches everyday. Assumed “hangover”, but they would last a long time. Chewed Excedrin all day. Kept getting worse and worser and worserer.

Was flying home from whatever place I was at, and actually got bumped to a First class seat (free booze!) for a 4 hour flight. Head hurt so bad that poor Cy put his coat over his head and just sat there curled up like the little bitch he is.

This was Friday afternoon. Cy went to bed, didn’t leave it until Sunday evening when he convinced Mrs. Cy to take him to ER. Did some tests, gave me some sweet, sweet drugs, The ER doctor tested the eye pressure, and the tester thing kept erroring out.

Finally, called in specialist, who had better tester thingy. Eye pressure was 98 mm Hg. The normal tester couldn’t read past 60 mm HG. (Normal eye pressure is in the 12-22 mm HG range). Used a syringe to slowly drain it. This started 18 months of lasers, needles, and other fun things.

Was sitting down in Puerto Rico at a bar in the Walgreens parking lot (I shit you not. Just a bar sitting square in the parking lot of a Walgreens. Was having a good time, when I felt this sharp pain the left eye. Whatever, it went away after a few seconds. Buddy said, “Cy, your left eye is turning bright red. Like bloody red.” Uh-oh. No bueno.

Not going to Dr. in PR, so hightail it back to the continent and go see my super important specialist Dr. (One of benefits about living in Houston area – that medical Center thing is quite amazing in terms of bringing top talent to the area.)

Apparently, I had a severely acute case of neo-vascual glaucoma. Somewhere, my body decided that it would be a really good idea to grow new retinal walls over and over again, especially the blood vessels to support it. Did some more laser stuff to seal the popped blood vessels, but that thing was doomed.

Did a few more trips to Boston, and it started getting more and more light sensitive, to the point I was wearing a baseball cap pulled down over my eyes (like how most girls wear them) .

Finally, Poor Cy’s head started hurting so bad like that first day on the airplane, he went to bed. Tried to get int to Dr., but she was gone in China during a lecture tour for 10 days. Got a sweet concoction of ever increasingly powerful drugs.

Finally got in, and she basically said, well, we can do X, Y, or Z. I said, “Doc, just fucking take it. Fuck this.” I hadn’t slept or eaten for 12 days. Couldn’t even drink – just puked everything up immediately. This sucked.

So, a few hours later, I wake up with one eye and felt fucking amazing. Good times!

So, that’s the nutshell story of “How Cyclops became a true Cyclops.”

See? Awesome!

Not so very long ago, Cyclops picked themselves up a guitar and I believe they just ordered a brand new one on Friday night – so that they have something a little better to play.

I asked ’em more questions. I still had questions!

That’s right – it actually gets even more awesome.

Ha, yeah, I don’t care. Use away – it’s not a secret.

No patch, although I have a few in my Jeep glove box for when I go topless. See, I had a hand made, custom fit, painted prostheses made (at quite the pretty penny – insurance says it’s just “cosmetic”, so only pays for the fitting portion of the price tag – or about 10%.)

It gets dry in the wind and the eyelid gets stuck either up or down – hopefully down, because when it is stuck in the “open” position, trying to blink is like the feeling of trying to enter a non-lubricated female (similar solution, too – spit on your hand and wipe it on.) Usually, shades work, but if it’s dusty out, or super windy, I’ll pop on the patch.

It’s actually better looking now than before the surgery – in the past, the left eye would sort of wander off to the side at times (usually about 3 hours of drinking into the evening).

Now, the socketball is sewed on straight and the prosthesis “suction cups” onto that ball tight enough, that is looks straight ahead, and moves with the other one, unless I’m looking side-eye at something, and then it gets off with the good eye, since it can’t move to the extreme angles.

I’ll tell you though, even though my left was legally blind almost sine birth, once I had it removed, I never realized how much sight I had until it was gone. Crowded places suck for me now – grocery stores, airports, stadiums and other venues with lots of people I don’t know what’s on my left, and I’ve had more than my share of “Excuse Me”‘s for bumping into someone that I just plain didn’t.

Once, a month or two after getting my prostheses installed, the socket was still “settling in”, and the fake eye was getting loose.

I was walking in the mall, and a bug or dust flew right into the corner of the left eye, and I went to wipe it, which caused the thing to fall out. It hit that hard mall floor and (no, it didn’t shatter), BOUNCED LIKE A FUCKING SUPERBALL!!! BOING! BOING! BOING!

So, here is a grown ass man chasing after this bouncing thing screaming “My Eye! My Eye!” Finally caught up to it, looked around, and there is a young girl (maybe 5 or 6?) with her Mom, and they are just staring.

That poor kid HAD to have gone home and asked Mommy, “Will MY eye fall out, too?” Poor kid is scarred for life.

Your welcome, therapists. Enjoy that new Benz on me.

Yup… That’s pretty much the best story I’m gonna hear all week.

Ol’ Cyclops wins the story of the week, right there. Competition is over. He deserves a ticker tape parade and a medal for that story! On top of that, his guitar is progressing quite well with the number of hours he’s investing and the length of time he’s been learning!

You can even click this link and hear ’em play you a merry tune. (Does anyone mouse-over those links, anyhow?)

That’s right. We got a guitar playing cyclops! Damned right! How many sites have a guitar playing cyclops? One. One site.

Again, let’s give Cyclops a huge round of applause for being a good sport, humoring my questions, and having the courage to let me post their story here.

Do you have an interesting story? Should I keep doing these sorts of things? (This isn’t the first time I’ve done it. This just might be the strangest story involved.) Let me know! Until next time…

Shut up and play us a song!

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