I was 14.

I was on the floor.

I opened my eyes to a nurse kneeling next to me, dad on the other side, and my sheepish optometrist perched on his chair with a newly-formed sheen of sweat across his forehead.

He and I had been locked in an intimate encounter just moments earlier; that involved his finger, my eyeball, and a contact lens.

See, it was that eyeball of mine that didn't take to being prodded repeatedly, and I pulled the pin on consciousness.

I fainted, not once, but twice, and ended up on the floor for my efforts.

Thank god for glasses.

Losing focus

Things started getting a little blurry in my first year of high school. I couldn't see half way down the classroom, and while I can assure you I was exceedingly intelligent, I had to resort to copying my neighbour's work due to the furry letters on the chalkboard.

It was that moment when you come to understand yourself a little better, and the universe adds a few adjustments to make the situation more comical. Oh, everyone thinks I'm a nerd? Let's just throw up a small prescription billboard on my face to make sure that's really clear.

So, 20/20 vision was a thing of the past, and spectacles were a new part of my life - aside from the brief flirtation with contact lenses that was quickly poked out of contention.

Seeing the light

I've always been squeamish about my eyes. I could have tried to put the contact lenses in by myself the first time...but I couldn't. And when the optometrist tried, and failed, it scarred me for life.

Well, for a good ten years. I haven't even contemplated trying contacts again, until now - when I realized just how bad my eyesight had become (during times when it's unsuitable to wear my glasses), and missing out on a whole lot of life because of it.

I needed to stop being crap, and face my fear of tiny spherical silicone lenses.

 Eye, eye, captain

This week, I finally took the first step back to sight - called the optometrist (a different one), went for an eye exam (the gentle kind), ordered some trial contacts, and booked in for the contact fitting lesson (for my hands only).

I can't believe I've waited this long to try again - but things can get so big and scary in your head when you refuse to face them. So often it's the thought of something that's scarier than the actual doing, right?

So I'm nervous, but I'm going to do it, and damn it, I'm going to enjoy the spoils of sight I've been missing; like seeing the volleyball before it hits me in the face, the Kardashians discussing their vajayjays on TV from across the room, watching 3D movies without two sets of glasses, and spotting the difference in price between a Bic Mac combo and a ten-pack of McNuggets on the menu board. Oh, and emptying the dishwasher without having to wait for the steam to clear.

The things that really matter.

And mate, don't even think about mentioning laser eye surgery. Baby steps, alright?

UPDATE: I've now been wearing contact lenses for over a month. It was tough, I can't lie, with a few painful contact-stuck-in-my-eye moments, but I got there in the end. I can now put them in and take them out, no worries. And that's a big deal, for me. I CAN SEE!!!