Fiona graduated from contact lens training lessons today.
Okay, she only had the one lesson so this isn’t a case of hard-won mastery or anything, but she did brilliantly well and doesn’t need any more training sessions, just a check on her eyes in the New Year to make sure they’re coping well with the contacts. It took her a couple of tries to get the first one in but after that she popped them in and out no problem and was clearly very comfortable with the whole process. The staff were apparently very impressed, calling her a rock star, swearing she’d set some sort of record.
She loves her glasses, but they’re inconvenient for things like running, soccer, trampolining, skiing. She thought she’d like the option of contacts once in a while.
I had been thinking the same thing for myself and recently began using contacts for running whenever it’s snowing. What a difference not to have glasses laden with melted snowflakes, fogging up every 50 metres! I certainly understood Fiona’s desire to have this option.
Thankfully our optometrist didn’t dismiss her interest categorically based on her age. His philosophy was that it’s more about maturity than age, and Fiona’s maturity seems to fit the bill.