Another Guest blog already? Yeah, consider me on Summer break from blogging. An unpaid, emotionally scarring break with lots of long awkward silences. Unexpected anger on the part of my Wife has prompted the rage-full binge of words that follows. She's learned so much from me with this blog, soon she'll be off on her own destroying poor souls with her spiteful rants! Enjoy!
Me, Myself and EYE
June has been the month of the EYE. Yes, I always try to have the Eye of the Tiger...but this month my eyes have decided to form a rebellion.
Why is it such an earth shattering, horrible, shocking and literally mystifying thing that I refuse to wear contact lenses? How many times must I stress my disinterest in touching my eye? The mere thought of being forced to touch my eye daily and partake in regular use of eye drops makes me sick. In fact, writing about it even makes me want to hurl. I am the type of person who is disgusted by all eye touching. I hate when people fondle their eyes in front of me (seriously go to a bathroom if you are going to mess with your freaking contacts in public!) and yet this is so alarming to people and eye doctors (who obviously crave eye touching as it is their profession). When I say I don't wear contacts and have no interest in doing so, I get the same reaction as I do from people when I tell them I've never seen The Goonies (since people always flip out at my not seeing The Goonies, I've decided to refuse to ever see it. The reaction is just priceless. Hey maybe I do sometimes enjoy getting a rise out of people on occasion;)).
So on Sunday while I was happily watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 on Blu-Ray, my glasses decided to break. Not the lenses but the frames snapped in away that was more than likely unfixable. The glasses-breaking really ruined the evening. I have had those frames since I was 17, so it was only a matter of time. As I am leaving for vacation in a few days, I knew I needed a quick fix. My husband's duct tape job just wasn't gonna cut it. So Monday afternoon I called the Wal-Mart Vision Center to see if I could get in. The first thing I am asked: "Do you wear contacts too?"
This is how the rest of the conversation went:
Wal-Mart Lady: Why not?
Me: *inner monologue — none of your beeswax!* Actual answer: I don't like them.
Wal-Mart Lady: Why don't you like them?
Me: I hate touching my eye. It makes me sick.
Wal-Mart Lady: Why?
Me: *about to Falcon Punch her through the phone* It just does. I don't want to wear them. So when can I come in?
Wal-Mart Lady: We can get you in Tuesday at 5 for an appointment. Maybe you could see if you like contacts now too.
Me: K, thanks, bye! *explodes into a fit of rage upon hanging up and then uses The Force to choke her from a distance*
After that unnecessary conversation, I was told by my mother-in-law that her eye doctor could see me that evening. I was hoping to see if perhaps my current lenses could be put in a new set of frames, since traveling with duct taped glasses would be just too sexy for some people to handle. Well, I arrived at her eye doctor's office with the husband, who came along (for fun?), and as we entered the building the song "I can see clearly now the rain is goneeeeee" was playing on the radio. How incredibly odd and almost antagonizing! After witnessing an overly hairy child furiously pounding his fists against the fish tank in the waiting room (I mean this kid was literally beating on the fish tank as if he were Rocky and the fish tank was Ivan Drago, the evil Russian from Rocky 4...seriously you all know that Rocky single-handily defeated communism, right?!), I finally got to share my glasses woes. First thing I am asked after explaining the problem and showing them my poor, shattered frames "Do you wear contacts?" *grumbles* "Noooooo."
I eventually saw the actual eye doctor and the first thing he asked "Do you wear contacts?" Again, my answer was "NO." If I had a lightsaber on me, I probably would have gone Darth Vader on him and chopped of his hand! He went on to ask me why not as well and then proudly proclaimed that he could "teach me." Dude, it is not a matter of teaching, do you not get it, I HATE TOUCHING MY EYES! How many times must I say it?!?! THIS IS SPARTAAAAAA! The doctor was able to fit my lenses in a new pair of frames. After checking for my astigmatism and switching the lenses (they were put in the frames the wrong way at first), I was good to go. I was informed by the doctor that if it wasn't for my astigmatism my vision would be fine and I'd never need corrective lenses. Jee thanks! He also told me when I was 40 I would probably need reading glasses. And who says you can't look forward to your 40s!?! Well after all this was said and done, I was ONCE AGAIN asked about contacts. I was told it was like "riding a bike." Ok whatever, doctor who has chosen to touch eyes on a daily basis *puke.* I finally humored him and just did the "smile and nod" before walking away with my trendy, new, way too expensive frames.
"You may take away my glasses, but you will never make me wear contacts!"
In addition to the aforementioned incident, my eye saga actually began earlier this month with this little happening:
A couple weeks ago my left eye also (so I hope I am not the only one that instantly thought of TLC upon reading the words "left eye") decided it wanted some attention and acted out in a temper-tantrum way. We are talking screaming child in the middle of Wal-Mart that everyone tries to desperately ignore, but can't. It became a puffy, gruesome, hideous display and caused my eye to be so swollen I could barely see. As the afternoon went on, I really didn't like the way it was looking. Then I turned to the evil Internets and my hypochondriac nature kicked into full gear and I began coming up with thousands of worse case scenarios for my eye. "OMG wats if my eyez fallz outs!?"
This prompted me to go see a doctor, and the verdict of my eye was a type of bacterial infection that to quote the doctor "just happens." First question the doctor asked after we discussed my symptoms: "Do you wear contacts?" Le sigh. The doc also found it completely natural to caress my eye and didn't understand why I kept moving away and wouldn't sit still. She prescribed me some antibiotics and eye ointment, which to my dismay, I was told that I would have to rub on/in my eye...not on the lid. HORROR! Like Rocky defeated communism though (and the fact that the tiny tube of ointment was $70) I was able to accomplish the task! See I told you I try to have the EYE of the tiger! After completing the treatment all I needed was to run on a beach with Apollo Creed.
So, there you have it. The eye saga of June. And to answer your burning question, in case you didn't get it, NO, I DO NOT WEAR CONTACTS. Though even with reading this incredibly long explanation, I am sure you eye touchers still don't get my phobia. To each his own, I suppose.
I will leave you with one of my favorite FRIENDS scenes that describes me perfectly: