I got contacts last Saturday. I went after spending the morning at a Learning Day our Relief Society sponsored. I learned how to make an apple pie and I made a name plaque with vinyl letters. And then I ate a VERY yummy lunch of several different salads and buttery rolls and lively, fun company of some of the other women in the ward. As of right now, I like that hour-long lunch/conversation more than my contacts.
When I finished the eye exam and sat down with a technician to go through the ordeal of putting my contacts in for the first time, I braced myself for the inevitable comments. You see, I am a terrible blinker. I think I nearly drove the woman who did my make-up for my wedding crazy because I couldn't keep my eye still enough for her to put on the eyeliner. And I can't help it! My eyes just don't like to be touched and my fingers aren't strong enough to hold them open against a blink without some painful gouging going one.
So, I watched the technician demonstrate, picked up my contact and neared it to my eye. The lady said, "You really have to open your eyes wide. And try not to blink." "OK" I said, trying to be civil and went at it again. Sometimes the contact would squish against my finger, sometimes it'd get crushed by my closing lashes. And still, the only commentary that woman had was, "Don't blink! You need to open your eyes!" She just said it over and over as if somehow telling me again would make me suddenly realize, "Oh! You mean my eye needs to be OPEN to put a contact in?! You'd don't say... And all this time, I was trying ON PURPOSE to keep my eyes shut."
That's what I wanted to say. I also wanted to say, Shut up! or Go Away! but my conscience wouldn't let me. I just kept saying, "OK" and "I'm trying.... really." And she just sat there, sighing away. Finally, I said, "You can go do something else if you need to. I'll just struggle with this here." And eventually, of course, I got them in, without her furrowed brow or sighing.
I told Sam the story on the way home and he kind of meandered his way into the bathroom as I tried again on Sunday morning. He stood there, watching, and I could tell he was holding his tongue. Once I finally got one in, he said, "You really do blink a lot," and then kissed my cheek to keep me from giving him the eye (which would have been red and teary, had it been attempted).
I'm now on day 5 of attempting contacts. I'm nowhere near having the "One day, it won't even bother you. You'll just pop 'em right in" experience that everyone keeps telling me about, but I am getting better. And I've decided they're worth the trouble. It's a great feeling to be able to both see long distances while I'm driving AND wear sunglasses instead of choosing between the two.
And the headaches are gone-- literally. Proverbially, I'd say my contacts give me one every time I have to put them in.