I Dropped Out Once
Before the scleral lens, I was on RGP lenses. The comfort issues won. I stopped wearing them and went back to living in the blur. I know what it costs to get turned off early, not just the vision, but the confidence that the process is even worth continuing.
That’s why the first three months matter more than anything else. Not because the lens gets easier to insert after 90 days. Because you do. You learn your own variables. You build a ritual. You stop fighting the process and start working with it.
This is not medical advice. It is 30 years of living with keratoconus and paying close attention.
Claim the Space
When it’stime to insert, close the bathroom door. Tell whoever is in the house. The insertion ritual is not a good moment to be startled, not for the obvious reason that you’re holding a lens near your eye, but because you’re about to enter a different perceptual state and you’re owed the space to do that with intention rather than on autopilot.
Keep the Routine Identical
The way I lay out my supplies is always the same. Which eye goes first is always the same. The sequence doesn’t vary. Think of a free throw shooter who bounces the ball the same number of times before every shot, or a golfer whose pre-shot routine never changes regardless of the pressure. Repetition isn’t rigidity.
It’s the thing that keeps the variable you can’t control, the eye itself, from having to carry everything.
Give Yourself Time
Especially in the first months. A clean insertion can take three minutes or thirty. If you have to leave the house at 8:00, don’t start at 7:55. The timeline pressure will work against you before you’ve even begun.
Patience has a Financial Dimension
Each failed attempt uses more saline to refill the lens bowl. I’ve learned that if I don’t get a clean insertion in the first two attempts, I’m likely in for a longer session. Getting frustrated only extends it. The body reads the tension and tightens. The eye that needs to stay open becomes harder to keep open. Staying calm isn’t a mindset suggestion. It’s the more efficient path.
Presence and the State Shift
Without my lenses, my visual acuity is immeasurable. 20/600, I can’t read the largest line on the chart. With my scleral lenses in, I have near 20/20 vision. The contrast between those two states isn’t subtle. It’s complete.
Over the years I’ve learned to treat that transition with the respect it deserves. I try to be fully present for it, aware of my hand position, my head angle, the concentration it takes to keep the eye open.
I don’t always get there. Some mornings I’m already running through the day before the lens is in.
But when I’m present for it, the difference shows in how the insertion goes and in how the day starts.
Document What Works
This is the one that changed the most for me.
I used to wonder why some days the insertion was clean and other days it wasn’t. I started writing it down. Mindset. Technique. Hand position. Head angle. Over time a pattern emerged.
For some people it’s the blink reflex. For others it’s head position. For me, what determines a successful insertion more than anything else is how present I am in the moment.
I wouldn’t have known that without the documentation. Write down what works after a clean insertion, not after a bad one. That’s where the real information is.
Recording a voice note on your phone works just as well. You don’t need a system. You need the observation captured before the day moves past it.
And over time, the record becomes something else. You start to see not just how your technique is changing but how your perception of the condition is changing.
A note from year one and a note from year five aren’t just insertion logs. They’re evidence of a different relationship to what you’re living with. That’s worth having.
TL;DR
Build a ritual and keep it identical. Give yourself time, especially early. Expect the first three months to be the hardest. Patience isn’t just a virtue here, failed attempts cost money.
Stay as present as you can for the insertion, not because it’s spiritual, but because your presence level affects the outcome.
Document the clean insertions, not the bad ones. Record a voice note if writing feels like too much.
That’s where the real information lives, and over time it becomes a record of how your relationship to this condition has changed.
Want to see what’s inside? Read my 30-year journey in my book, Living Successfully with Keratoconus by Kenneth Ramsahai
Discover how the “Clear Vision Window” concept can transform how you manage life with keratoconus.
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