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When I pulled at the corner of my right eye, my eyelids came together, but this did not make the contact lens come off the eyeball as it usually did. Hmm -- I thought vaguely, still pondering that homework assignment -- That lens must be getting kind of dry.... Staring intently into the bathroom mirror, I tried again. And again. Lens did not move. Still expertly suctioned onto my cornea. Sometimes hard contacts can be a bit difficult to remove, and this had happened a few times before, but today I had to get to class by 4:00, and it was already a little past 3:30. I suppose this sense of rushing may have made me a bit too...aggressive.

I closed my eye and pressed the tip of my finger on my outer eyelid, right over the spot where the contact was stuck. With just a teensy-weensy bit of downward pressure, I "pushed" the contact off the iris, thinking that once I dislodged it I would be able to just pop it off as usual. While I did succeed in moving it off the center of my eyeball, the suction between lens and eyeball was now stronger than ever. When I opened my eye, the mirror showed me the little clear-blue circle of the lens now down on the white part of my eyeball below the iris...stuck like glue.

See the problem?

People who wear contacts aren't too squeamish about touching their own eyeballs, and touch I did. Vigorously. I stood before the mirror poking, prodding, pushing, and plying at that lens, but it was immobile. With vaccuum-like suction, it remained there on the white of my eyeball, and now it was nearly 3:40. I was starting to sweat. I'm not sure if that was because I was going to be late to class or because I was now gettting a little worried about the contact lens stuck on my eye. I looked back and forth between my watch and my reflection. Then I noticed that the "skin" of my eyeball under the lens was puckered up in a little circular shape, and I could tell that my eye was now getting irritated because it was getting red. The little veins and capillaries were inflamed from all this man-handiling, and so, nearing panic, I did something kind of desperate. I carefully slid my thumbnail under the edge of the lens and pried outward. There was a tiny, wet sucking sound like the kiss of a fairy's plunger as the lens pulled away from the surface of my eyeball.

Without looking into the mirror, I hurriedly washed the contact with the cleaning solution, rinsed it carefully under running water, placed it in the storage container, covered it in fresh solution, and screwed down the small lid. I splashed my sweaty face with cold water, dried it with a towel, and was just about to head out to the car for a quick drive to the university when I felt something...funny.

I looked up into my own reflection, and all those plans about going to class suddenly changed.

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