Yowza! My first field trip outside since the "big whack." Okay, it was to the naturopathic oncologist, but it was highlighted by some great stuff.
First, the purpose of the trip was to offer up my already assaulted veins for an I.V. Vitamin C treatment laced with Traumeel. (Google that one!)
Next, one of the physicians in the practice played "re-wrap the 'mummy'" (ah, an old b'nai mitzah reception game!) several times. (Wearing gauze bandages reminds me of trying to wear tube tops in the '70s...I had nothing to hold the darn things up then, and I now I no longer have anything to hold them up now!)
I also discovered a commonality with the males of our species I never thought possible. My empathy was triggered as I desperately struggled all day to discreetly camouflage my two "drainage bombs." (Recall back to high school gym class and that guy who always wore boxer shorts underneath his too short gym-shorts?)
If the excitement of all of the above was not enough, I had the added pleasure of exposing...I mean sharing...all of this with a dear friend (read: indentured chauffeur-ette). Yes, Steph got to share in the mummy wrap, bombs, needles and the memory of pubescent jewels. Payback...I mean gratitude...can be a bitch, however, and my dear Steph leads the class.
She insisted that we stop for a quick nosh on the way back home. The excitement of the day obviously gave her an appetite. Sitting in the Scottsdale icon, The Sugar Bowl, she sinfully indulged in a four scooper bowl of Turkish Coffee ice cream, slowly licking every caramel droplet from the spoon. Only to then chase this decadence by slurping a diet cherry cola as she smirked in concerned fashion in my direction. I, being lactose-intolerant, watched longingly as I gagged down my 1/2 tuna melt (sans frommage). All the while drooling with envy into my ill-fitting "tube top," wondering if my "d-bombs" were peaking out from my proverbial "boxer shorts!"
All in all, a pretty great day!
