Contact Lens Misadventures

I have been wearing contact lenses since the sixth grade, and still, my lenses sometimes freak me out. About once or twice a year, a lens falls out of my eye for no apparent reason. Maybe I blinked too aggressively. Or maybe the contact lens was feeling bored and wanted to go on an adventure. I don't know. All I know is that in the space of 0.01 seconds, I go from perfect vision to "I'm blind!" and this moment always makes me think I'm dying.

I wear daily disposable lenses, so losing one is not a big deal. But whenever a lens pops out, an urgent question must be answered: Where did the lens go? If I can find the rogue lens, the drama ends quickly. Sometimes it got stuck to my shirt or fell to the ground. But the little buggers are transparent so I can't always find them.

This scares the eff out of me. If the lens is not on my clothes and not on the ground... where the hell is? IS IT STILL IN MY EYEBALL???

In these instances, the following monologue starts to loop through my head:

Oh my god, the lens has been sucked into my skull and it's going to damage my brain! The hospital will probably have to amputate my entire eyeball. Should I get a glass eyeball or just wear an eye patch? I'd look pretty good with an eye patch, but what is that weird feeling? The top of my eye feels funny. WHERE IS THE EFFING LENS? I CAN FEEL IT BUT I CAN'T FIND IT! I'm too young to die! Why did I put on my contacts this morning! Oh cruel vanity, I should have just worn my glasses!

I lost a lens on Halloween about an hour before dark. I patted my clothes and the couch and checked the floor... no contact lens. I ran to the bathroom and inspected my eye... no contact lens. I assured myself that the lens had just fallen into a crevice of the couch.

But I worried. My eyeball felt funny. Was the lens lost in my eye socket?? But I checked my eye repeatedly and the damn lens was nowhere to be seen. I told myself that if my eye still felt funny in the morning, I would go to my optometrist's office and scream plead politely until he inspected my eyeball for the missing lens.

Finally, about twenty minutes after it first disappeared, I found the little bastard. It had folded itself into quarters and then wedged itself beneath the lid near the corner of my eye. I blinked fiercely and was able to dislodge the lens from its hiding place, and seconds later, the funny feeling in my eye dissipated.

Since it was Halloween, I can only assume that the contact lens was possessed by a demon. Next year, I'll just wear my glasses on October 31st.