I thought I had plenty to think about - the play opens on Dec 9th and no.. I still don't quite exactly know my lines, oh then there's the small matter of moving house on Friday - and no I still don't quite exactly know what packing a house should involve....and of course the relentless demands of a job that's getting so big I think my blackberry is getting stretchmarks....OTHER than that everything was fine. Busy but fine.

Until Wednesday. Don't want to get too detailed about things but let's just say that I began the day taking my 4 yr old on an adventure which ended at the doctor's for pre school jabs (look I know how important they are but please don't try to tell me that the look of hurt betrayal in their eyes when the needle goes in isn't more painful than measles and tetanus put together after a month of diptheria because I won't believe you) and ended the day with poorly eyes.

Poorly eyes...hmm....have had them before. Have poked them over the years with masacara sticks while trying to drive, have bleached them inadvertently with contact lens cleaner, have even scratched one once...but this poorly eyes thing was a bit more serious.

Ironically, I had bounded into the opticians flashing my 'I'm 40 now so I get free sight tests because my mother had glaucoma' smile at everyone and joked about how useful it was to be short-sighted and to be able to benefit annually from my late mother's affliction. Not that I'm mean - it was just a bit exciting and possibly the only good thing about turning 40 as far as I can make out. Unless the periods stop and I can save tampax money every month.

Anyway this optical rapture came to a swift end when the serious optician stopped waffling on about how scratched my glasses are and how I should rest my eyes from contact lenses (yadder yadder) and the gravely told me I had what appeared to be a symptom of glaucoma. Well two symptoms to be precise, each eye was bulging with pressure it shoudn't be. Not that I look like Marty Feldman (in case you're wondering) but something isn't right.

Immediate reaction

'I'm too fucking busy for this'

Followed by

'Sodding typical - utterly bloody typical so that's it I'll be blind by next week - I knew something would stop me enjoying my new house'

Followed by

'Er, how bad is it?'

Stupid question

'Bad - bad enough for you to come back'

'OK, er let's see, how about second week of Jan?'

''How about next Monday?'

'How about I rewind my day to some time before Henry looked at me with confused bewilderment in his eyes about being stabbed twice' I thought

'OK - you're upset'

'No, not really - just wondering if it could be anything else?'

'Not really - come back in an hour - we'll test again'

So I wandered off for some retail therapy and timed my only clothes buying trip for ten years in M and S (definitely getting old... surely this is a more conclusive sign of old age than the onset of glaucoma?) precisely 7 hours before they announce their 20% sale.

Went back muttering about badly calibrated equipment and the result?

Even fecking higher.

OK...it's not life threatening, it's only sight threatening and yes I KNOW it can be controlled with eye drops etc.

But....but....my eyes are the only body parts I like, and it seems a bit unfair that 6 months past my 40th birthday my corneas are diseased. This will be confirmed next week in the next round of tests no doubt. Why couldn't my cellulite have got some kind of random medical issue? Why the only two parts I have never criticised despite them being a bit near sighted?

Hmph.