Monday's Comic Relief

Well, I just had to enlist the help of an EMT this evening, but not for the usual health problems.

My Optometrist was having me sample some new contacts this week to see if they work better for me. This is not unusual. The first day I tried them, they didn't feel great and it took me ten minutes at the end of the day to get them off of my eyeballs. They seemed to suction right onto them. 

Instead of writing them off as a bad choice, I decide to give them another shot. I mean, if they are supposed to be better for people with Sjogren's AND are less expensive, then why not? If they don't work I will just order the ones I've been using for the last couple of years, not a big deal. 

The next two days it's the same thing. Needing to flush my eyes in order to get the damn things out - until today. 

Today - I hadn't had enough sleep, so I decided to take a nap in the afternoon (which has yet to happen by the way). I go to take my contacts out so that I can lie down. The right one takes some time but, eventually, comes off of my eyeball with that faint suction sound. Then I start working on the left one. It's just NOT coming out. And then, one of the worst things happens. It rips. A small piece of contact comes out onto my fingertip.

Shit. 

So now I am trying to do two things. 

1. Keep my eye flushed to try and remove it. 

2. Keep it on the FRONT of my eye. I really don't want them to have to find it behind my eye. 

I try for about ten more minutes with no success. 

I stare at my tweezers for a good 30 seconds before deciding against trying that myself... Last thing I want to do is damage my eye. 

Sure as hell can't drive myself to emergency, so I call and ask for an EMT to be sent to my place - non-emergency - to see if they can remove it or if they need to take me in to the hospital. 

He tries flushing it out - to no avail. 

He cleans my tweezers - the ones I stared at and considered using - and proceeds to move and try to remove the piece of contact leftover as I keep my watering eye open for him. 

Only it isn't just one more piece left. The damn contact ripped into not two, not three, but FOUR different pieces. He removed one, a small one (thankfully) came out of the corner of my eye onto my cheek, and he had to remove the last piece. All with my own tweezers. 

Weirdest house call ever! 

And then, of course, because my body is so finicky, the whole process triggered an intense migraine followed by some vomiting. 

Happy Monday!