I’m feeling much better today but yesterday morning started out rough. I awoke to more scratchy pains in my eye, and after hoping for more improvement my mood was sour. I had to tape up the eyelid to keep it off the ball to manage getting ready for my appointment with Dr. Tom without crying. I’m a tough old bird but that kind of pain is mean. The light sensitivity was much better but I still hid under the black grocery bag as the morning was sunny and bright and I didn’t want to stress my vision.
You would think after the positive experience the day before I would have been more comfortable with whatever might happen yesterday but a phobia has deep tentacles and pretty much guaranteed there would be more foolishness. Luckily he assumed there would be more of the same and was ready for me.
He froze my eye which brought immediate relief but that was short lived when I overheard the dreaded words, contact lens. For me they have always been taboo. Even watching ads on TV make me squirm. Somehow sticking a piece of plastic in the eye if off the chart crazy. Of course a multi-billion dollar industry disagrees, but it ain’t for me sista and I will add this little tidbit....there are a number of optometrists that wear glasses and never use contacts, food for thought? I like the protection that glasses provide and believe that they make me look smarter, a win, win.
Once I was told he planned to insert a contact lens my knees started twitching and my feet started stamping the foot rest on the chair and I swear it sounded like I was auditioning for Michael Flatley’s Riverdance. He told me it would protect the scratched area from further irritation and in theory it’s all good but seeing that little plastic disc coming toward me, perched on the tip of his finger was unnerving. Anyway, he promised it wouldn’t hurt and he was right, but placing it was not my finest moment. At one point I automatically grabbed his hand, reached out without realizing it and held his wrist. It felt like a scene in an action flick, someone grabbing a hand to stop a knife coming at them. He made a comment that if I tried to stop him he could possibly poke me in the eye. That kind of took the piss and vinegar out of me, he was able to proceed and the thing stuck to my eyeball as tightly as biker shorts. Didn’t hurt one bit! Of course that was followed by another string of apologies about being an arse. I’m sure he no longer listens. I am apprehensive about Friday when he plans to take it out. I'm not sure how he plans to do that.....trying not to think about it.
I’ve not had to wear the bandage so that’s an improvement. The redness is still there but he’s given me a steroid for that so now I’m on two drops every four hours. I’m able to function and truthfully except for the icky reflection in the mirror of my scarlet, puffy lid and eyeball, I’m feeling pretty good. Hopefully by my next appointment Friday I’ll be right as rain. Anyway, that’s enough about my eye.....
You would think after the positive experience the day before I would have been more comfortable with whatever might happen yesterday but a phobia has deep tentacles and pretty much guaranteed there would be more foolishness. Luckily he assumed there would be more of the same and was ready for me.
He froze my eye which brought immediate relief but that was short lived when I overheard the dreaded words, contact lens. For me they have always been taboo. Even watching ads on TV make me squirm. Somehow sticking a piece of plastic in the eye if off the chart crazy. Of course a multi-billion dollar industry disagrees, but it ain’t for me sista and I will add this little tidbit....there are a number of optometrists that wear glasses and never use contacts, food for thought? I like the protection that glasses provide and believe that they make me look smarter, a win, win.
Once I was told he planned to insert a contact lens my knees started twitching and my feet started stamping the foot rest on the chair and I swear it sounded like I was auditioning for Michael Flatley’s Riverdance. He told me it would protect the scratched area from further irritation and in theory it’s all good but seeing that little plastic disc coming toward me, perched on the tip of his finger was unnerving. Anyway, he promised it wouldn’t hurt and he was right, but placing it was not my finest moment. At one point I automatically grabbed his hand, reached out without realizing it and held his wrist. It felt like a scene in an action flick, someone grabbing a hand to stop a knife coming at them. He made a comment that if I tried to stop him he could possibly poke me in the eye. That kind of took the piss and vinegar out of me, he was able to proceed and the thing stuck to my eyeball as tightly as biker shorts. Didn’t hurt one bit! Of course that was followed by another string of apologies about being an arse. I’m sure he no longer listens. I am apprehensive about Friday when he plans to take it out. I'm not sure how he plans to do that.....trying not to think about it.
I’ve not had to wear the bandage so that’s an improvement. The redness is still there but he’s given me a steroid for that so now I’m on two drops every four hours. I’m able to function and truthfully except for the icky reflection in the mirror of my scarlet, puffy lid and eyeball, I’m feeling pretty good. Hopefully by my next appointment Friday I’ll be right as rain. Anyway, that’s enough about my eye.....
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