where are the smelling salts?

When I was a kid, a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I would get, shall we say, a leetle bit queasy at the thought of blood or anything even remotely related to the body, medicine or visiting a doctor.

I also had the most crooked teeth ever documented, so in a cruel twist of fate, I had to visit the orthodontist regularly.

Every time we went, I would get lightheaded just pulling into the parking lot.  It took every ounce of my willpower just to get out of the car and walk into the office.  My limbs would go weak as I sat in the chair and opened my mouth.  Then the orthodontist would poke around, twist a few wires and we'd be done.  Easy, peasy, not even any blood.  But then the next week, I would start the process all over again, complete with weak limbs and the shakes.

I don't think my Dad knew about my "condition."   He hoped for many years that I would grow up to be a nurse.  In subtle and not so subtle ways he spent time telling me what a great nurse I would be when I grew up.  At the time I was young enough to not really equate nursing with blood or body parts so I figured, ok, whatever, nurse it is!  I also planned on being a gymnast* and a horse jockey*, so why not add "nurse" to the mix?  How well rounded I would be!

That dream came crashing down quickly, however, when I turned twelve.  The magic age of "getting your ear's pierced" in our family.  Somehow I survived the ordeal of the actual piercing, I think my excitement overshadowed the fear of the procedure.  Then I had to wait six weeks with the original studs in before I could take them out.  By this time, the excitement had worn off a little and I was a little afraid to actually touch my ears.

When the six week milestone came, I faced the day with dread.  I knew the earrings could come out but actually taking them out posed a problem.  I would have to touch my ears, and acknowledge that there was a metal rod through them!  Then I would have to stick another earring into the hole!  A hole in my ear!  That a (granted smallish) metal rod could go through! I felt weak and queasy like I'd never felt before.  I managed to get the first earring out and the room was only swaying a little. But before I could get the second earring out, everything went dark....

My father found me laying on the bathroom floor with one earring in, and one earring out.....it was then that he realized I would never be the next Florence Nightingale.

*my own dreams came crashing down when I grew to be 5'11" tall

2 Comments

undefined:

ha ha ha

And to think you birth naturally!

Dad had plans for my future too. A doctor for me. Um, no thanks.

**KT

undefined:

Good read.

and HEeeey, Dad never wanted me to go into medicine...ah, I feel left out.

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