Normal vision is 20/20. I used to work for an ophthalmologist, and I still can't explain what the numbers mean but I do know that the bigger the second number is, the worse your vision. Without correction, my vision is 20/1,000,000,000, I think. Let's just say I'm so vision-challenged without lenses, I could use a bat as a tour guide.
I hear friends raving about corrective surgery for their vision problems, but unless the first patient who had that surgery turns 90 and can still see, I'm a girl happy with contacts.
So I got up this morning, brushed my teeth and then popped open my contacts. Bloop! In goes the first one and I squint at my now double image in the mirror, trying to decide as I do every morning if I would appear skinnier if people viewed me with one eye closed.
Fish the other contact out of it's watery bed. Bloop - in it goes.
And I'm suddenly blind as a bat. I can't see a darn thing. The mirror in front of me is a shiny haze. I look down at the counter and it's a white blur. Hmmmm. I fish the contact back out of my eye, rinse it off and try again.
Again with the blindness.
Pop it out ("debloop?") and this time scrub it in the palm of my hand with some lens solution. Rinse it off.
Blind as a bat.
What the. . . . !?!??!
Fish the little bugger out of my eye yet again and hold it up to the light, closing my unadorned eye so my vision-full eye can see if there's - oh, I don't know - say, a dog hair on the lens. Or an eyelash. Or an oil slick - anything that would explain why having it in my eye makes me as blind as Mr. Magoo.
Nothing - just a shiny little saucer waiting to land somewhere.
So I rinse it off, put it back on the end of my finger and. . . hey, wait a minute. . . I stare at my finger with the oh-so-clean contact lens waiting patiently on the end of it and think back over the last few minutes.
Brush teeth. Check.
Wash hands. Check.
Unscrew cap with "R" on it, scoop out lens, put it on my right finger, pop in eye. Check.
Unscrew cap with "L" on it - that's the lens I've got now - put it on my. . . . oh crap.
I suddenly realize I've just spent the last 10 minutes putting both my right and left contact lenses in the same eye.
Some days, I am embarrassed to be in the same room with me.
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