A 39-year-old man named Groeschen woke up one morning with an irritated eye. Initially suspecting allergies, he didn’t think much of it. However, as the discomfort worsened over the next few days, he decided to seek medical help.
At the Cincinnati Eye Institute, Groeschen received alarming news. He had contracted a bacterial infection caused by Pseudomonas. Doctors determined the likely culprit: sleeping in his contact lenses. This habit allowed the bacteria to thrive under the lenses, leading to a serious infection.
Despite being treated with antibiotics that eradicated the bacteria, the damage was already done. Groeschen developed a corneal ulcer, and the resulting scar tissue left him partially blind in the affected eye.
“It’s like trying to see through frosted glass,” doctors explained. “The infection eroded part of the cornea, and the scarring significantly impairs vision, even after the infection clears.”
To restore his sight, Groeschen will require a corneal transplant, a procedure with a lengthy recovery time of about a year.
As the owner of a design and restoration company, the vision loss made it challenging for him to keep up with his work. Reflecting on his experience, Groeschen pointed out that his contact lenses were labeled as safe for overnight wear, but he believes this advice should be reconsidered.
The American Academy of Ophthalmology has long warned about the dangers of wearing any type of contact lenses overnight, stating that it significantly increases the risk of eye infections.
Dr. William Faulkner, who treated Groeschen, emphasized, “The safest approach for eye health is to avoid sleeping in contact lenses altogether. Daily-wear disposable lenses are the best option for reducing risks.”
Other risky behaviors among contact lens users include using old lens cases for too long and failing to completely replace the cleaning solution after each use.
This story serves as an important reminder: seemingly harmless habits, like sleeping in contact lenses, can have serious consequences.
Please share this article to raise awareness and help others avoid similar risks.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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