7 Reasons You Should Never Throw Away Your Left Contact Lens
1. Replacement. I wear monthly disposable contact lenses. For those not in the know it means I can wear a pair for 28, 30 or 31 days before they automatically dissolve into my iris. Occasionally though, the lenses become irritating or torn before the 28, 30 or 31 day limit arrives. When this happens I get rid of them and put in a new lens. It makes sense. So yesterday when my left lens started irritating me, I threw it in the bin. I then went to bed. And I slept. Soundly. This morning I rose, showered and went to put a new lens in. And this is when I realised I really should have checked I had a spare left lens before I got rid of the irritable one. Because I didn’t. There was no lens. Not one. Zilch. Oh dear.
2. 2006. England lost to Portugal on penalties and I broke my leg playing cricket. As far as I can remember those are main the highlights from that year. You probably still have visions of at least one of these. Something else happened in 2006 though. I bought a pair of glasses. You’d probably only remember this if you were my joint optometrist/stalker. The glasses in question can be seen above. Now, five years is a long time in eye years. Mine have deteriorated quite a lot and as such so have the minus numbers on my prescription. As a result, unless I am up very close and personal, I can’t see a bloody thing through them. The wise among you may question why I haven’t purchased glasses since 2006. Well, I have. It’s just that I sort of lost them. Twice. And losing stuff is an expensive hobby. Which is why I haven’t bought anymore since. So basically, I’m blind. I’m wearing these glasses but I’m blind.
3. And Scary. I don’t like me in glasses. Especially these glasses. I think I look like I am trying to look inside your brain. And I’m not. I’m really not. To be honest with you I’d probably struggle to find your head with these on. But I can’t tell everyone who sees me that I am not as scary as I look. If someone came up to me and told me they were not as scary as they looked I wouldn’t believe them. So how can I expect other people to believe me? Until I can get my eyes on a new lens I am going to have to look directly at the floor. At all times. If I can see where it is.
4. Vision Express. I don’t know much about other opticians as I’ve always been with Vision Express. For contact lenses at least. They’re a touch on the expensive side but they do offer added benefits. Apparently. And a free quarterly magazine which I last received in 2009. So I guess they could improve their service a bit. One thing they do offer is free replacement lenses if you accidentally tear one (or throw it in the bin). The two mile blind walk to the branch is somewhat frustrating, but at least you know you’ll be able to see on the return journey. Or at least you would be able to if Vision Express had the lenses you require in stock. If they don’t you have little option but to make the blind walk home. And no, you can’t get a bus. You’ll probably get on the wrong one. Or get in the cab of a fire engine. You might get lucky though, it might not be moving like the one I tried to get into was.
5. Irrational Behaviour. Now, I have never felt the inclination to rummage around in bins before, but that could well have been because I have never lost my sight before. That’s why you’d have found me in a bin at about 11am today. Or my hands at least. Don’t worry, there was nothing else in the bin apart from a tissue. And the packaging from a new pen. Hopefully you will have worked out by now that I was looking for my left contact lens. I found it. All crisp and brittle. In a move that would startle eye health experts the world over the lens is now sitting in cleaning solution in my desperate attempt to bring it back to life. And you know what, yes, I am going to try and wear it again. Because I’m a rebel. An irrational rebel.
6. Dishonesty. I wear my contacts every day. Except Sundays. That at least is what I tell my optometrist. Obviously, being a normal person, I wear my contact lenses every single day including Sunday and lie to my optometrist. Oh, don’t pretend you’re not the same. But now I’m not wearing contact lenses at all. Which means when I tell my optometrist that I wear my contact lenses every day except Sunday I’ll be lying about six days of the week. At least when I wore my lenses I was only lying about one day of the week. Throwing away my contact lens has made me dirty,
7. Time. Throwing away a contact lens destroys your day. Or, in this case, the next day. It’s now 2pm. Today’s 7 Reasons post should have been uploaded at 9am. That’s five hours ago. Trying to restore my sight – and so far failing – has taken five hours! That means I am five hours behind schedule. This means I will have to have my lunch at 6pm. And my dinner at midnight. I’ll go to bed at about 3.30am. And get up at about 11am. And the process will continue. Always. I’ll never post a 7 Reasons piece on time ever again. I’ll be late for my wedding. I’ll try and make a baby in the middle of the biscuit aisle in Tesco. I’ll end up in the wrong coffin. This is a disaster. Because I can’t see I am always going to be five hours behind the world.* And not just in the brain department. What a nightmare. What an absolutely hidoeus nightmare my life has become.
*Unless I move to New York.