Eleven and possibly too young for the responsibility of small lenses, solution bottles, biweekly enzyme cleaning. Possibly, but when we climbed in the car, Mom pulled down the mirror she kept above her seat, and I could see my eyes. I decided I could do this. The world no longer disappeared when I turned my head from it, just stepped aside, to wait in the wings of my vision. Everything crystal clear now, no more peering through a lens removed from the surface of my eye, everything closer, no advance guard to filter all that would be coming in. No way of knowing I should have gotten safety goggles instead.