My Right Eye

I know things have been a little quiet on the Care Pages front recently, but don't take my silence as a sign that nothing’s been happening. Quite the contrary; I'm back to doing therapy three days a week and I’m finding that when I get home I'm pretty tired. I’m taking that as a good sign for now, but I’m also taking lots of naps. So I don’t always get around to checking e-mail and things quite as routinely as I’d like. I do have a post in the can about an interesting and fun-filled trip to the podiatrist ready to go of these days. Keep on the lookout for that one; it’s a real barn burner.

For the last couple of days, I've been going around half blind, unable to see clearly out of my right eye. It seems that when I woke up Friday morning and went to rub the sleepy sand out of my eyes, my right contact lens decided to jump ship. I wear two-week disposable contacts, but ever since the accident, I’ve been wearing them 24-7 for weeks at a time, because with my limited hand function I can’t change them myself.

When I was first at St. Joseph’s Hospital, I tried to go back to wearing glasses for a couple days because of this contact changing problem. I realized though that when lying in a hospital bed with my neck immobilized, I could only see what was directly in front of my field of vision; which at that time consisted of the ceiling tile. I went back to wearing the contacts so I could have a wider field of vision. It required getting used to having somebody stick their fingers in my eyes, which you’re probably not supposed to allow, but over time I’ve gotten accustomed to it. Gradually my mom and I worked out a system that when she comes down to visit on the weekends, she changes my contact lenses for me.

Last weekend, when my mom was down to visit, we changed my contacts for the first time in many weeks. And on Friday morning, when my right contact lens decided to make a break for it, I was fairly steamed because I had just gotten this new pair in. I could go a whole week with one lens in and one lens out, thankfully my vision isn’t that bad, but it definitely isn’t the most ideal situation. So, I knew I was going to have to figure out how to get my contact back in my eye. I don't know what motivated my contact to try to jump out of my eye. It must’ve gotten word that this was going to be a longer enlistment than it originally signed up for. "I know when you were packaged up at Accuvue we promised you two-week Tour, but these drastic times call for drastic measures, Soldier. And no, you won't be able to come off the line every night for a soak. We may be able to bring some saline up to the front every now and then, but I can't promise anything."


Miraculously, I was able to catch the lens before it got lost, or torn. I placed it on the headboard where it wouldn't get knocked on the floor and where I would be able to retrieve it later. After I got up and had breakfast, I went back to get my contact lens and discovered it all dried out and shriveled up. On Friday morning I have early therapy, so I didn’t have time to mess around trying to resurrect my contact. I left it soaking in its case and went off to therapy.
For those who’ve never put in a contact lens, it requires extensive finger dexterity. Back in the old days, mine was a two-handed procedure, with the contact perched on the tip of the index finger of the hand corresponding to the eye in which I was attempting to insert the contact. The other fingers on that hand had the job of pulling my lower eye lid down. I would then use my opposite hand to reach over and hold my top eye lid open as wide as possible; pretty standard operating procedure, really, but nearly impossible with non-functioning fingers.

Over the course of the last three days, I've made several attempts to put the contact back in. Unfortunately, I'm now literally all thumbs, as those are my only fingers that extend without any special assistance. I’d place the contact on the end of my right thumb, and use my left hand to stabilize, resting my elbows on the edge of my sink, but every time I would get hung up on my long, dreamy eyelashes and the contact would turn inside out, maybe fall into the sink, my lap, or on the floor.

I tried numerous times until my eye was sufficiently bloodshot and irritated and then I’d quit. I just couldn’t get my eye open wide enough. This morning though, I decided to change my approach and use the thumb on my left hand to come underneath my right hand to pull my lower eye lid down. Thus, attempting to get the opening I needed to insert the contact.

I don’t know if the stars aligned properly at that exact instant or if I summoned enough of the Force to turn off my navi-computer, but it was as easy as riding a bike into an empty two-car garage. And what a difference in clarity! Two contacts is much, much better than one! Will I return to the days of taking my contacts out every night and putting them back in my eyes in the morning? Probably not, but at least now, if ever the need arises, I know it is physically possible.