She works hard for the money (part two)

It was a Friday last August and I was pregnant and sick. All day, every day. It was a struggle to get to work in the morning, but that morning, I had patients at the nursing home that I needed to see at breakfast. So I pushed myself to make it, bright and early. But I probably wasn't looking too enthusiastic about the day. And I couldn't find my glasses. Pregnancy also made me pretty absent minded. I spent a lot of time looking for my pager, keys, therapy materials, car, and anything else I needed to keep track of. So I sat down next to my patient, lets call him Bob. Now Bob was a difficult patient, mostly because he truly believed no one could help him. I spent so much time trying to convince him that I could. So we were discussing his swallowing disorder when I noticed something different about Bob. He looked. . . hip. Different than he usually did. Somehow he looked so young for his eighty six years that morning. But I just couldn't figure it out. And then I saw it. "Are those your glasses?" He said yes. "Bob, are you sure those are your glasses?" He insisted they were, but I wanted to get a closer look. He handed me his glasses. They were not his glasses, they were mine. He was wearing my glasses! Which look something like this:
And his look something like this:
I went to his room to retrieve his glasses. He could finally see and I had a better day.