The contact drama is over. I won’t bore you with the gory details, but thankfully, no one had to hold me down… I was able to figure out a technique that worked for me, thanks to the wonderful and very patient Gail in the doctor’s office. I’m thinking about sending her flowers, or at least bringing her back something sweet from Italy.

I’m blogging this event, because while it may seem trivial, it mirrors other related moments which have been life-changing for me, and my thought process and my feelings were the same. I was acutely aware of it the whole time, and I think it’s very interesting.

I hesitate to go into much detail here about the other dramas, because it’s so very personal.

I will say that I have always had an unreasonable fear of pain when something needs to go into any orifice of my body. When I was just a little girl, I had lots of ear infections and because my canals were very small and winding, I needed to have my ears flushed periodically to clear the wax which would get stuck deep inside. I thought I was dying during the process. I hated it so much, I would rather go without hearing than make an appointment to feel water gushing through my head. One time I finally conceded, and afterwards, I thought something was wrong with my car, because now I could hear a bit of air around the door from my left ear as I drove.

My process goes like this: I feel embarrassed. I will try to find any way possible to get out of whatever it is I think I can’t do. But it’s always something that would provide a benefit to me, so eventually, I want the benefit so badly, that I accept the fact that I need to overcome my fears and do it – whatever it is. But then I feel like a freak because I see millions of other people go through the same things every day without acting like a big baby like I do. (For example, I used to have to take a sedative to get my annual pap exam.) I so desperately want to feel “normal.” Wanting it badly enough usually gives me what I need to get through it, and once I do, I feel completely elated and powerful.

Such was the case with the contact lenses. Though my kids couldn’t really appreciate why I was bouncing around the house yelling, “I did it!” they did see the stress I was under all weekend, and they know it was a big deal for me.

It’s an every-day, what’s-the-big-deal thing for most people, but for me, it’s a triumphant victory over the “I can’ts.”

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