I remember back in the early '90s, Professor Alač stopped seeing patients at the clinic. Honestly, the wait times were already pretty brutal—you’d be waiting about two months just to get an appointment. So, I finally get in, and he writes down which hormones I need tested. Then, when I show up for my follow-up, he looks at me and goes, "Wait, didn't you get the XXXXX hormone checked too?" He hadn't even noted it in my medical records! Because of that slip-up, I had to redo all the bloodwork based on my cycle days and then sit around for *another* two months waiting for a follow-up. After that whole mess, I switched over to Professor Koršić at Mayo Clinic. Maybe Dr. Bečejac is a total expert in his field now, but let's face it—it's been fifteen years since then.
I’ve always been told you absolutely have to rinse your lenses in solution first because there could be some kind of bacteria lurking in the tap water (honestly, I can't even remember the name) that causes serious issues—we're talking stuff that could actually lead to blindness... but hey, I still wash them that way. As for the storage solution... you don't need to rinse that. That's what the folks at the eye clinic where I get my contacts told me. They even mentioned that some people use the solution meant for hard lenses almost like artificial tears. I totally agree that you have to swap out your contact solution every single time. It’s not that I’m trying to be cheap or anything, it’s just that I honestly can't be bothered to scrub the case with detergent and rinse it all out every time. Supposedly, if you wear hard lenses, you should take a 15 to 30-minute break every 8 hours or so... but in 11 years of wearing them, I have never once done that. We can try to help girls who wear contacts by sharing our best tips and habits, but at the end of the day, everyone eventually figures out what works best for their own eyes. By the way—and I know plenty of people who do this too—if I'm outside and something gets stuck under my lens and starts scratching, I'll just pop the lens out, put it in my mouth, and then pop it right back in my eye (assuming I haven't eaten or drunk anything, obviously)... I know, it sounds totally gross, but it really works for us. Though, I don't do it that often.
Personally, I’m pretty strict about my routine—I wash my lenses with detergent every single time and swap out the solution every other day. My one little slip-up is that I rinse them under the faucet. Also, since I pop them in first thing in the morning, I don't take them out until the evening, even though technically they should be out and cleaned after about 8 hours. Still, I rarely deal with protein buildup making things look blurry. And no, I never touch artificial tears. I always make sure to wash my hands before I touch them to take them out or put them in. For me, it's way easier to do my makeup first and then slide the lenses in. I've gotten so used to it that I can just pop them right in by opening my eyes wide without even having to stretch my eyelids with my fingers. If your lenses keep popping out on their own, it usually means the base curve isn't quite right for your eye.
Chris Morgan67 said:I’m quite fond of soft contact lenses; they’re incredibly durable and I haven't run into any issues with them.
However, I would suggest a specific combination that works best for my Bausch & Lomb Boston lenses: using their solution for storage and a dedicated cleanser. You can only pick them up at Ghetaldus, but in my experience, nothing else compares...👍
What’s the damage on the price? I usually go with the R Plus from Solek and both items are $20.
Jerry Lee14 said:Kevin Cook11, does the contact lens actually cover your entire pupil?
The pupil, yeah—but not the iris (that's the black part in the middle, while the iris is the colored part around it... brown, green, blue... ugh, how do I even explain this?). Anyway, those first ones I ever got didn't even cover my pupil if my pupils were slightly dilated, so I was constantly seeing the edge of the lens in the bottom outer corner and it totally cut off my vision.
Some lens brands keep stock on hand, but since the base curve matters so much, they’ll adjust the lens size based on how your eyeball is shaped—specifically with those hard contacts. I don't have a super curved eye, so I actually need the largest size available; otherwise, they’d just slip right out and wouldn't cover my entire cornea. That was actually the issue with my very first pair, so they had to swap them out for me. Plus, everything depends on your prescription. If you're dealing with higher diopters or heavy astigmatism—or even weird combinations like I have, where my prescription is low but my astigmatism is high—you might have to wait a bit longer for them to arrive. As for the cost, a single hard contact usually runs anywhere from $250 to $133, depending on the strength you need, which manufacturer makes them, and whatever margin the distributor decides to tack on. Medicare covers a certain percentage based on your specific prescription, so your out-of-pocket cost really just comes down to that difference. Regarding sleeping in them... look, I occasionally close my eyes for maybe 15 minutes, but my eyes end up watering and stinging like crazy afterward, so I don't make a habit of it. Honestly, I'd rather just take them out. If I don't have my case handy, I'll just wrap them up in a clean tissue, and when I'm ready to put them back in, I give them a really thorough rinse with water... though, again, I don't really do that often. It’s true that some people have a harder time adjusting than others. Personally, my eyes didn't water at all, even when I walked into the clinic or when the technician popped the first pair in. I was looking around totally fine! The only real struggle was just getting used to the physical motion of putting them in at first. But listen, if you're dealing with bloodshot eyes or intense stinging, that's not okay. Go back to the eye doctor where you got them and ask them to check if the edges need to be polished. If that doesn't fix it, go see an ophthalmologist immediately.
Man, I remember back in the day when those Red Bull pills used to be a thing... they were basically like little wake-up calls, total psychostimulants to keep you from crashing. I know for a fact my uncle used to toss one of them in with his coffee whenever he had to pull an all-nighter studying. A few years back, I actually asked my doctor about getting some, but she just shut me down immediately—said they’re totally banned now.
Look, IQ is just about logic and how fast you can connect the dots—it has absolutely nothing to do with how much heart you have or how much you care about people. So, please, don't let this get to you. Even if the tests show your score is way lower than theirs, it doesn't mean you're a lesser person or any less valuable than anyone else out there. Btw, if you hadn't spent your entire life being bullied with stuff like "you're so stupid" or "you just don't get it," you’d probably be way more confident. You'd tackle problems faster and wouldn't be so anxious, constantly worrying if Mensu was going to tell you the exact same thing your family did. Honestly? I truly believe you would've had much better results if you hadn't been constantly shut down by those insults growing up. If my IQ were 200 and my kid's was 70, it wouldn't change a thing—I'd love them just the same. In fact, it'd be best for me and for the world if I just focused on pushing them toward every positive opportunity possible... and that's exactly what you should do for your own child.
When I’m dealing with an attack triggered by everything going on around me, my go-to move is just cutting out the light... it’s pretty easy enough to just blackout the room. But the smells? I don't know if it's all in my head, but I swear my sense of smell just goes into overdrive. It's like even the tiniest scent becomes incredibly intense. And the noise—even the sound of my own breathing starts to grate on my nerves. My family feels just as helpless as I do when this hits; they hate seeing me like this. They end up just hovering... nothing gets done, no cooking, no chores, they just whisper around me... trying their best so I don't feel any worse.
I’ve gone through the absolute ringer with medical testing—full neurological workup (EEG, EMG, color Doppler, X-rays, CT scans, MRI), plus seeing an ENT, an ophthalmologist, a physiatrist, and even a psychiatrist just to rule out stress... but it hasn't changed anything. Every single day I wake up with at least a dull headache that almost never fully clears, and I constantly deal with this pressure and occasional throbbing in my temples throughout the day. Before an actual attack hits, I get this predictable aura; it’s like looking through fire with sparks jumping in front of my eyes, the pulsing gets way more intense—usually on my left side—and smells become unbearable. Once the attack peaks, even the tiniest noise or scent drives me crazy... whether it's the smell of my sheets, food, or any kind of cosmetics. This whole thing can drag on for two or three days. I’ve actually blacked out from the pain three times now. My last massive attack was back in June, and honestly, even injections didn't touch it... I just had to grit my teeth and suffer through it. Before that, though, about 20 minutes after an injection, I’d feel better, get incredibly hungry, and then be able to crash into a deep 15-hour sleep. I tried Zomig as soon as it hit the market, and somehow I managed to trigger nearly every single side effect without the pain actually subsiding. Before that, I was using Imigran. And don't even get me started on painkillers; I've tried everything under the sun, from over-the-counter stuff to the heavy-duty prescription meds. It’s making it so hard to stay active, go out to anywhere remotely noisy, or travel. Not to mention staring at a computer screen all day at work... yeah, life is pretty miserable right now.
Dear oxygen, thanks so much for the kind words... and honestly, you hit the nail on the head about everything. But listen, there's one thing I know for sure: when patients get discharged, the administration for each specific unit logs every single med used. It was so often Zofran (if you've got a medical background, I'm sure you know what that's for), while those poor souls on chemo who were basically vomiting their guts out would get a bolus of two ampules of Reglan. The real difference between me and a lot of my colleagues was that I always asked myself, "What if it was my own mom in that bed... would I be asking for just one more option to make things easier?" That mindset really separates us from the crowd. And it doesn't matter which department you're in—it doesn't matter if it's oncology, hematology, neurosurgery, or pulmonology... at the end of the day, you're looking at a human being who is suffering.
I deal with these tension-type migraines, and honestly, when an attack hits, I’d probably accept a death sentence if someone offered it to me just to make it stop. A family friend of mine is a neurologist, so I've tried absolutely everything under the sun... from every standard medication you can find at a local CVS to specialized imports. I've even been giving myself injections. It actually got to the point where even Tramal wasn't touching the pain, and that's some heavy-duty stuff. We haven't been able to pin down what actually triggers them, either—it could be food, stress, the weather, or hormonal shifts during my cycle. It's impossible to tell. I've gone the acupuncture route, tried homeopathy... nothing works. Period. All I know is that after more than 10 years of this misery—dealing with almost daily headaches or this constant throbbing in my temples—I am just completely drained, and my quality of life has totally tanked.
I’ve been struggling with this stuff for years. Seriously, I tried everything you guys mentioned—wasted a fortune on endless piles of skincare, bounced between gynecologists, dermatologists, and endocrinologists. It felt like a full-time job. Finally, about three years ago, I was put on Accutane and everything finally settled down. But then, last summer while I was vacationing down in Florida, my skin just absolutely revolted. I had this massive eruption of cystic acne, but specifically just on my neck. To make matters worse, my hair was falling out in clumps right into my hands. Since things went south so fast—literally within a week—I didn't wait around. I paid out of pocket for private testing because the local clinics were all booked up through August, and I couldn't get an appointment until late September or early October. And guess what? After all those tests, they still couldn't find a smoking gun. They just gave me the classic line: "It's probably just a hormonal imbalance caused by stress." Like, excuse me? What kind of "stress" happens when you're relaxing on vacation? Anyway, the breakout eventually cleared up, but it left behind these dark spots everywhere. I spent all winter trying to fade them with AHA acids. Most of them are gone now, but the damage is still visible, so I'll have to go through the whole treatment process again this winter. Honestly, dear doctors, whenever you're stumped, just blame it on stress.
What does a terminal patient actually have left, besides pain and a desperate grip on hope and faith in God and miracles??? If I hadn't worked in oncology at Mayo Clinic while I was still in school, someone might actually try to pull the wool over my eyes. Even though I was working in medicine, I’ve always stood firmly on the patient's side. To a medical professional, pain is just some subjective sensation, but to the person suffering? It is incredibly objective and very, very real... and then there’s the raw, concrete agony of watching a helpless family fall apart right in front of you.
I honestly don't buy the idea that the lady who started this thread made it all up. I mean, when you're watching someone incredibly close to you slip away in total agony, you definitely have better things to do than just hang out on the Forum. The woman was clearly just desperate and feeling helpless... and honestly, you only really get that if you've lived through it yourself... which is a damn shame. As for the medical staff... look, there are some truly wonderful people out there, but then there are those who shouldn't even be working in a vet clinic, let alone a hospital... they'd be much better off unloading bricks at a construction site. I get it—on high-intensity units, you can't afford to feel every ounce of empathy for every patient or you'll lose your mind. But you still have to recognize that there's a human being suffering right in front of you and do everything in your power to ease that pain. A kind word to a patient and their family actually goes a long way. Now, I'm not saying a nurse or a doctor needs to sit by the bedside holding hands all day, but they should be managing pain, repositioning the patient, providing comfort, or offering advice... low pay is just a pathetic excuse when you lack basic humanity.
Alright, I’m going to have my dad check in with that guy and find out exactly what kind of concoction he was actually feeding my mom. The only thing my dad could tell me today was that the woman had stomach cancer that had spread all through her abdomen. She managed to survive for at least 50 days living solely on those eggs soaked in wine and herbs before she could even start eating normal food again. And get this—once she pulled through, she was right back out in the fields working with a hoe. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything.
I know this guy, maybe around 55 now. His mom was hit with cancer about 12 years ago, but since they lived way out in the middle of nowhere and weren't exactly big on formal education, they didn't even bother seeing a primary care doctor when it started. By the time she actually collapsed and ended up at the hospital, they basically just did a quick assessment and realized it was already everywhere—full of metastases. Since she was pretty frail and getting on in years anyway, they just sent her home as a terminal patient. Her son went down to this local herbalist shop and picked up literally two plastic bags filled with various herbs. The pharmacist there actually warned him, saying that mixing certain plants like those could be dangerous. I have no clue what he actually did with those herbs—whether he brewed them or just soaked them, I honestly don't know. All I know is that every single day, he gave her one egg yolk whisked into a little bit of red wine. And you know what? She recovered. She lived for another 12 years and finally passed away this past spring at something like 85. The whole point of me telling this is that you should never, ever just take a doctor's word as the final say. Don't give up. If anyone actually wants me to dig around and try to find more specific details, I can try to track them down.