Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Contacts, Te Odio. Part Deux.

As some of you may be aware, I have had struggles recently when it comes to contacts, eyedrops, or really anything eye-related. Yes, even the mention of any of these things turns me into the world's biggest pansy (well, eyes and daddy-long leg spiders).

So, this brings us to Monday, October 17th. It began as a lovely, brisk autumn morning. Which I really didn't see much of, because I slept in until about 10. I determined that on that day I would proudly wear my contacts out, and actually be able to see my friends as I passed them on the street. After about 15 minutes devoted to each eye, the contacts were in.

It was wonderful, as I walked around with the glorious, beautiful fall foliage around me. But, alas, I forgot my eye drops. Not wanting to miss a second of this gorgeous day, I fought the urge to return home and retrieve the little green bottle. Eventually, as the day grew colder and I grew hungrier, I returned. I decided to just use the contact solution, because the likeliness of actually getting some in my eye was much higher. The right eye was fine, but then as I went into the left... something went wrong, terribly wrong. I rubbed my eye, as it was so horribly uncomfortable, and in the midst of all the contact solution and towel-eye rubbing, the contact went missing... or so I thought.

After spending a few hours of the night with just one contact in (as I learned, a terrible idea), I noticed my left eye was driving me nuts. The contact couldn't possibly be in there, could it?? After hearing that it actually could, I had several people try to look around in my eyelid for it. I started getting panicky- this was literally one of my worst nightmares (again, apart from being covered in daddy long legs). My roommates, who incidently all wear contacts, assured me that I would know if it was there, and all would be well. I slumbered peacefully for several hours, then a couple seconds after awaking felt that irritating sensation yet again.

I took a shower- the feeling was still there. I tried pouring in even more contact solution-still there. I looked up "contact stuck in eye" and tried everything the websites suggested. My poor eye was just even more irritated. Then, my wonderful, amazing roommate offers to give my eye another go. After 45 seconds of examining, there he was, lurking in the upper corner of my eyelid, that evil little contact. It took my roommate about 3 seconds to fish it out.

Moral of the story, don't ever rub your eyes with contacts in, and always make sure you have a calm, non-squeamish roommate around.

I know Bryant Milesi is laughing at me somewhere.