I’m happy to report that my eyeballs are trucking along, happily bouncing light off my retinas and sending the images to my brain. Okay, so my left and right don’t agree and I occasionally walk into a wall. My brain has it covered. Just ignore the silly left eye.
I’ve worn glasses since I started school at age six. The pictures of horrendous frame selections bears witness to this fact. Until a number of years ago, my astigmatism ruled out the option of contacts. Then around the same time they developed contacts which could be used with this condition, I was also diagnosed, belatedly, with a muscle imbalance. So in went a prism, and gone went any chance of wearing contacts, unless of course Iwanted to walk into walls. About five or six years ago, I got my eyes checked and went through the torture of picking new frames and praying I wouldn’t loathe them after I could actually see properly.
I chocked up the dizziness I experienced with the new glasses to the tweak in prescription and smaller lenses. It took me days to adjust. It never occurred to me that something might be wrong as I could see clearly. Three years or so later I go to get new glasses as those were one stress fracture away from breaking into bits. (I can be rather hard on glasses.) I’d learned to inform the techs of the prism in the glasses because I’d been told that if they aren’t looking for it, it can be easily missed. Oh, it was missed alright; entirely left out in fact. My brain in its infinite wisdom accommodated this change by ignoring all depth perception information from my left eye and basically winging it based on the accumulated experience of twenty-some-odd years. One can hazard a guess that it sometimes miscalculated. Thus, my more frequent collisions with walls and doors were not due to a sudden case of clumsitis, but by the same depth perception problem I’d experienced prior to the prisms. DOH!
I asked the eye doctor if he could put the prisms back in. This involved measuring the imbalance….or not. My brain, used to misinformation, stoically resisted his assault of the double E. No matter how hard I focused, I never saw more than one E. 😦 So, I bought new glasses, sans prisms, and continued to proceed through life with walls and furniture jumping out in front of me from time to time.
One of the worst things about glasses is that when I’m exercising or there’s any irritation on the contact points between glasses and my face they exacerbate or cause irritation. I’ve tried numerous nose pads, including little moleskin type pads. I’m allergic to silicone and none of the others were any better. It occurred to me that on those rare instances when I wished my face unencumbered I could try out contacts. I’ve fished enough eyelashes out of my eyes (chronic allergies and itching eyes led to me rubbing them a lot as a kid), so touching my eyeball does not gross me out.
I watched the video at the optometrist’s office like a good little patient. Then I did as instructed and popped them in without too much incident. Getting them out proved far more complicated. The video made it look easy, but pulling off what amounts to a slimy suction cup on your eyeball without poking yourself is trickier than they make it out to be. Miss Assistant was anything but helpful. She sat across from me with a bored expression and just kept reciting instructions. When I asked if there was a trick to it because I couldn’t get them to cooperate, and I tried for a solid fifteen or twenty minutes, she got testy.
“You aren’t listening.”
“Yes, I am. I keep poking myself with my nails.” (I don’t have long nails.)
“Use the soft pads of your fingers.” She waves her long purple acrylic nails at me. “I can get them in and out with these.”
Well goody for you.I proceeded to tear off what little nails I had. With each little rip I imagined one of her nails popping off and me chucking it at her. Thankfully she went off to “assist” someone else before I said something sarcastic about her nail dexterity. A fellow patient felt sorry for me and demonstrated the process. It didn’t immediately fix my quandary, but it made me feel better. I kept trying and with some tricky two-handed maneuvering finally got the suckers out. I am pleased to report that after wearing them for a bit after work, I got my right one out in one try and the left only took me about ten minutes. Still not a pro, but I’m getting there.
Miss Assistant grilled me on just WHY I could not wear the contacts out of the store.
“I work in a lab with chemicals. It isn’t safe.” As if it was any of her business. Who cares if I never buy another pair?! It isn’t like she gets a commission.
She gave me a dubious glare, but said nothing more. My evil comments were many, varied, and all unspoken.
Even if the contacts confuse my brain with the whole clear peripheral vision, and my right eye insists on trying to pop out the thing attached to it, I SHALL conquer the eyeball suction cups. I shall not let them defeat me!