Red Eyes at Morning, Sailors Take Warning
Is It Pinkeye, OR Are You Demonspawn?
Not sure? Take the quiz
Is it viral conjunctivitis or demonic soul-union with Mephistopheles? Take this quiz to find out:
When I rub my eyes they:
A) become itchy and dry.
B) feel better for a few minutes, then worse for an hour.
C) turn scarlet red like the sweet and savory blood of virgins.
My primary symptoms are:
A) redness, dryness, and conjunctival swelling.
B) a spontaneous allergic reaction to holy water.
C) an irresistible urge to subjugate the peasant masses of human excrement from their pathetically short and meaningless lives.
When I described my symptoms to my doctor, she prescribed:
A) antiviral eye drops and bed rest.
B) 48 hours of isolation, followed by washing my sheets and pillowcases.
C) nothing — as I spread her freshly acquired entrails upon the obsidian stone altar.
When I remove my contacts:
A) the eye swelling and redness resolves in 12–24 hours.
B) I get "randomly selected" to take a drug screen at work.
C) I don't wear contacts. My vision has been perfect since the lunar eclipse when we summoned Baal, my favorite ancient Sumerian deity.
My favorite book is:
A) The Notebook — but my eyes hurt so much I cannot imagine reading a single page.
B) Harry Potter and the Village of Damned Souls — The Musical.
C) The Book of Revelation — especially the middle chapters where rampant evil plagues the earth for 1000 years. Hilarious!
The Four Horsepersons of the Apocalypse:
A) is a terrifying story from ancient folklore.
B) is the name of my EDM band.
C) are regulars on poker night —Pestilence owes me fifty terminally ill hospital patients from going all in on a straight flush.
Complete the following limerick.
Red eyes at morning, sailors take warning.
Red eyes at night:
A) I hate you. Why are you mocking my painful sickness?
B) sailors' got the munchies.
C) see into the flowing emptiness of a hundred generations while I emerge from my cocoon of personified bile to strike fear into all who shall oppose my reign.
When I wake up in the morning:
A) my eyes are crusted shut with painful grit.
B) I stretch my sore back and neck — my sleep coffin has no room for a pillow.
C) I leap out of bed, overjoyed with the misery I create through my job as a Verizon Wireless customer service agent.
It's 2:00 am, and my house loses power. On the way to check the circuit breaker, I stub my toe in the darkness and think:
A) "No lights? It's already hard enough to see with this damn pinkeye."
B) "Damn, I should have purchased a flashlight — and not offended the Van Helsing family."
C) "Who gives a heaven? I devour pain like hipsters with a charcuterie board."
When I walk my dog, strangers who see me:
A) stay away because of my disturbingly bloodshot eyes.
B) offer to sell me crystal meth.
C) jog off to find the nearest Catholic priest.
It's Friday date night, and my romantic partner wants to:
A) stay the hell away from my contagious tears and green waxy discharge.
B) Netflix and chill — their eyes are as red as mine.
C) Exorcism and chill.
Worried my sickness will affect my paycheck, I stumble into the office. My coworkers:
A) Fran and Steven encourage me to take a sick day.
B) Vin and Scully repeatedly joke, "You should see the other guy!"
C) Abaddon and Beelzebub remind me that I'm nineteen soul corruptions short of my monthly quota.
My greatest desire in life is:
A) my eyes to stop itching.
B) restore the moments from my past when I felt truly alive.
C) destroy the hopes and dreams of innocent children — and maybe kill some puppies.
When I look in the mirror, I see:
A) a hideous beast with eyes like the fires of hell.
B) no reflection.
C) a hideous beast with eyes like the fires of hell.
Answer Key
Mostly A's
According to the Mayo Clinic, the red, dry, itchy feeling in your eyes is a viral infection called conjunctivitis — aka pinkeye. (External Link)
See a doctor if your symptoms worsen after 12–24 hours. ¹
Mostly B's
Results are inconclusive — you likely do not have pinkeye or suffer from demon possession. Perhaps you are a vampire, or you smoke ridiculous amounts of marijuana.
Mostly C's
It's time to ink a Club 666 or We Are Legion tattoo on your forehead. You are officially the hellseed of Satan. ²
Footnotes
¹ This story is a work of satire inspired by unfortunate cases of pinkeye sweeping through our home. Mark Suroviec, M.Ed. is not qualified to give medical advice. Nor is he qualified to teach Quantum Physics.
² Special thanks to Doctor Funny editor Michael Burg, MD (Satire Sommelier), for correcting my improper use of medical terminology.
Want more humor based on icky eye conditions? Oscar Rhea has you covered.
New to Medium? Want to read stories by authors with immensely more talent than me? Join Medium here, and I will sanitize my house from pinkeye — or make a downpayment on the exorcism.
