Contact Drama

The last several months of Chloe wearing a contact lens have been nothing if not drama-filled. Dave, my mom, and my sister have been lucky enough to hear me b!&ch and moan about her contacts and the vision center pretty regularly. I thought it might be *fun* to record all this excitement in one spot. Posterity, right? Maybe Chloe will look back on this post one day and shake her head at the absurdity of it all.

- A couple of months ago the vision center folks informed me that Chloe's lenses were supposed to last three months. I found this news slightly disturbing since they told me "one month" during my training. Fortunately for them, I have yet to discard a lens. They've all been lost so the fact that I'm almost through a year's supply of lenses in three months...well, that's on me.

- Then I decided to switch Chloe to the hard lens (a.k.a. gas permeable lens). The vision center guy (we'll call him Skip) schedules Chloe for a fitting on the same day as her next appointment. Guess what happens the morning before that appointment. You got it. We lose a lens. Fortunately, Skip gets us a replacement at no charge.

- After Chloe is fitted for a hard lens Skip orders her lens and says it should arrive in 4-5 business days. This is fine but I'm in no particular hurry considering Chloe has a brand new soft lens in her eye now. Three weeks later we happen to be at the hospital for a pulmonology visit and I decide to stop by to check on the lens (since I haven't heard from them). Skip searches around and finally finds the lens but he doesn't have the special solution or plunger necessary to remove the lens. (Seems like maybe he should have ordered them all together...?) Again, I'm in no particular rush, so I don't make a big deal out of it. He schedules an appointment for us to come back 3 days later to place Chloe's new lens and to train me on it.

- Three days later we arrive for our 830am appointment. This is really inconvenient considering the fact that we're all usually in our pajamas and sleepy-eyed at that time but it was the only time that worked in order to get back home to get Solana to school on time. We arrive and Skip isn't there. We wait. The girls call him. We wait some more. I suspect he forgot our appointment. 35 minutes later I see him rush in. 10 minutes after that he comes to me with a story about how the plunger hasn't arrived and FedEx this - shipping room that - excuses. I give him THE LOOK. (This is a look that all the women in my family are born with the ability to make. It can chill the blood and has been known to turn people to stone.) "Skip. You realize we've been here for 45 minutes and we live a half hour away? This is decidedly inconvenient, Skip." He offers to come to our house. Agreed. Skip lives to see another day.

- The following evening Chloe's in her high chair and I'm feeding her. I can't see her contact. You've got to be kidding me! It's gone! Chloe has been in 3 places since I last checked her lens. She played on her blanket, took a bottle on the couch, and ate dinner in the high chair. Dave and I spend 45 minutes on hands and knees but there's no lens to be found. How could I move her twice without checking for a lens! Aaaahhh!

- The next morning we're back at the hospital and, fortunately, the plunger has arrived! Chloe gets her new hard lens. As Skip is demonstrating how to handle and clean the lens I look at the bottle from which he just took the lens. On the lid is written, "C Jordan L." I think the C must stand for "Chloe" and the L for "Left Eye" but what's Jordan? I ask and discover that Skips about to put some other kid's contact into Chloe's eye! I flatter myself and decide that my incomparable beauty must make him nervous. This is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

- The new contact seems to be working well. I'll be darned if Chloe isn't already seeing better. Then, on Saturday morning, I'm cleaning her lens and am having trouble getting all the proteins off it. Skip did mention that these lenses are more durable than the soft lenses. I rub harder and my very short fingernail clips the edge of the lens and chips it like an eggshell. The chip feels sharp. This can not go into her eye. It's Thanksgiving weekend. I call the doctor on call and there's nothing he can do. These lenses are special ordered and they wouldn't have any in stock. (Once we're settled into her new lens and past this trial stage we'll always have two at home.) They'll need to order one. Chloe will have to go all weekend and longer without anything on her eye. I'm freaking out but it is what it is. There's nothing to be done. The doctor asks where the chip is and comments that sometimes patients have chips on the inside of their lens and don't even know it. After Chloe's nap I start thinking and finally decide to take my finest softest nail file to her lens and file it until it's smooth. Wash. Rinse. Wash. Rinse. I put it in and she's fine. No complaints. We're going in tomorrow for a scheduled checkup plus they got the replacement in today.

Seriously, Chloe is surounded by a bunch of nincompoops! I don't know how she can put up with us!

Note: Regardless of Skip's screw-ups he does really seem to know his contact lenses and works closely with the leading researcher and developer in the nation. He always gives thorough and knowledgeable answers to all my questions. He may be awful administratively but I do trust his knowledge about contacts. I'll just make sure to always check Chloe's lenses before putting them in her eyes...