And now we return to our story, the continuing saga of a young(ish) man in search of his eyesight. . .
So the Gig Harbor optometrist didn't work out. You know it's a bad sign in a relationship when they say "Let me check on that and I'll call you back" and three months later, you still haven't heard anything. Especially when they could be making a lot of money off of you.
And did I mention that when the surgeon who performed my transplant got a look at the initial work this GH optometrist did, he said "that lens fits like $#@$!"
The good news is, the original lens-fitter I was working with pre-surgery, one of the top specialists in the nation, hasn't completely retired, and still comes into the office every couple weeks. And he's willing to see me.
The bad news is, to get a correct fit, I have to let the cornea settle back into its natural shape. Which means no contact lens for two weeks. Which means that, starting today, I'm back to being relatively blind in one eye. I survived a year of this, I suppose I can survive another couple weeks. And, honestly, that last lens was getting painful to wear.
Mostly, I just want you to know that if I'm winking at you, it doesn't mean I like you. It's just that I can only see you out of one eye. Plus if my sermon comes across as 'funny' this Sunday, it's probably just that I can't read my notes.