Contacts. We have a love-hate relationship.
During high school, old age set in early, and my vision started to go. I got glasses to see far away, but I hated them.
But, Thoughtsy, if you hated glasses so much, why didn’t you get contacts?
Anything having to do with eyeballs freaks me out. I blame Fire in the Sky and Clockwork Orange. (This is where I might normally insert a picture…but it’s too gross. You’ll have to Google it.)
And someone told me the contact can get lost behind your eye.
Sometime in college…I got contacts. The optometrist assured me that contacts do not slide behind your eyeball. (Liar!)
Then…just the other morning…it happened. The contact slid behind my eye.
I put in my right contact easily. I put in my left contact. Oooooo! The pain!
I popped out the left contact. I put it back in. More excruiating pain! I rubbed my eye. I felt the contact slide under my eyelid.
For 20 minutes I tried to dig that sucker out. Finally…the pain subsided. I searched the floor. Maybe the contact fell out with the constant rubbing and application of eye drops. No contact.
The only explanation is that the contact went behind my eye. If I suddenly stop blogging, you’ll know why: Death by Contact.