My Contact Lenses Have Wanderlust

I lost my first contact lens the first week after switching from glasses. It popped out while I was sitting in the back seat of our car, never to be found again.

Since then I've dealt with a number of escapee lenses--some retrieved, some lost forever.

Amazingly, one that popped out while I was walking home was found. My mother and I went back up the street with a flashlight and miraculously were able to locate it none the worse for wear.

Another one made a break for it in a dormitory bathroom. I was convinced that it had slipped up under my eyelid and ended up scratching my cornea trying in vain to retrieve it.

I had one that I thought slipped down the drain. I immediately dismantled the sink trap to try to rescue it, but it was nowhere to be found. Because it never went down the drain but was actually on my hand the whole time. By the time I realized it, I had accidentally crushed it.

Tonight one went AWOL as I was taking them out to take my shower. I spent twenty minutes on my hands and knees, with a flashlight, searching for it. I had almost given up when I decided to make one last ditch effort to make sure it wasn't still in my eye somewhere. As I peered in the mirror, I managed to locate it.

Perched delicately on my right cheek.

Stupid lens!