Mistake.... the torture continues

April 8, 2010
My first career was in the wine business and I did a lot of serious wine-tasting. I was even half way to becoming a Master of Wine, so I have highly developed olfactory powers.

As soon as I got back home and lay down to recuperate from the morning's excitement in Radiology, my nose started twitching. There was a smell I recognized but was too woozy to place. I dozed for a bit but the smell woke me up and this time I knew instantly what it was. Skin glue!! And I'm highly allergic to it. In fact, I was already starting to itch. Oh, for godsakes!

I rustled up my daughter Emma and we headed back to Radiology, stopping to say hello to Dr Z and all the friendly folks in the breast cancer center. B, the nurse, took a look at my red and itchy chest, tut-tutted to herself and immediately assembled copious amounts of scrubbing alcohol and new dressings. She ripped off my bandages and started scrubbing off the glue. I guess it was the only way to get rid of it.

I don't know what you guys do when you're sitting in the dentist's chair and things get a little ouchy, but a trick I've learned over the years is to channel the pain into my feet and then rotate them. I know, sounds weird, but it helps. Try it! It's less obvious that the white knuckle death grip on the armrests.

So while B. scrubbed away at my fresh wounds, from which all traces of local anesthetic had long vanished, I twirled my feet madly and tried to be brave. After all, my daughter was watching and mothers can't be wimps, right?

Emma and I have an interesting history of psychic connection. The first time was when she broke her collar bone playing soccer as a kid. She was carted off the field to the medical tent while I sprinted round to meet her. She was lying on a stretcher, ashen and sweating. Shock, they said. Something's broken. I held her hand and stroked her forehead. The color slowly started coming back into her face at the same time as I began to feel clammy and dizzy. We swapped places on the stretcher. It was the weirdest thing. I'd taken away her pain.

Today, it worked the other way. Emma held my hand, squeezed tight and then had to sit down, head between her knees. But I felt much better!! Thanks, Em!!