Liz Cutler Gates
I remember the time I thought I’d messed up my eye sight for life.
It began when I rolled my mom’s car. Flying glass sliced open my forehead and left eyelid, requiring surgery to repair. As a result, I couldn’t wear my contact lenses (the hard variety) for most of the summer.
Grateful that the stitches were the only result of a very serious accident, I complied. Glasses weren’t my favorite accessory, but the alternative was more alarming.
I was to serve as a bridesmaid in my brother’s wedding. As my family left for California, where the nuptials were to occur, I had the blessing of my doctor to begin wearing the contacts. The only caution was to begin slowly, leaving them in for a few hours at a time.
I obeyed
