Thursday, July 17, 2008

Day Two: Illin' & a Writing Prompt

Like this cat, I'm not feeling quite right today - again. I've started back on Prevacid, because this feels like ulcer pain. I'm trying anything I can come up with to avoid going back to the gastroenterologist. I like the guy and all; he's very sweet. But I don't relish the thought of a tube down the throat again! My poor sister is going for the scope up and scope down next Tuesday. I know it's hard for her, particularly because she has evasive veins. They run away or collapse when the nurses go for them. Poor thing! We're a bad lot, we siblings. Full of ailments and strange oddities.

In fact, she and I were discussing last weekend the fact that we all seem to be overly tactile sensitive. I had discussed this previously with my brother (the one who has landed himself in a homeless shelter in downtown DC -long story). He has severe eczema and has to buy tagless tee's, extra soft diabetic socks, and so on. My sister and I were comiserating with each other about the fact that we can't enjoy some of the things other women take for granted: hair dye (now...though we did it for years), bubble bath, lacy bras, anything that rubs, contains irritants, or is guaranteed to make us prettier! I think we're both just a step away from being declared to have multiple chemical sensitivity. My laundry closet, like hers, contains detergent and dryer sheets that have no additives or perfumes. Our body washes don't smell like lavendar or tangerine. They smell mildly of soap and are low-sudsing.

So here is your writing prompt for the day. If you like, you can post a paragraph or a poem in your comment. OR you can write out the response as one of your upcoming blog posts and link back to me here. However you want to do this, however it works for you, by all means, have fun with it. You'll be cheering me up as I read your wonderful and creative responses to the prompt!

Writing Prompt #1:

Emma is an itchy girl. She has to be careful of everything she touches and everything that touches her. Describe Emma's morning as she goes off to school on a cold winter morning.

Let your imaginations run wild. She can be a city girl or a country girl. She can be young or old, but she has to be heading to school, with all that entails (you make up the details!).

Have fun!

Peace - D


Coal Miner's Granddaughter said...

Emma hated the winter. It was a season that exacerbated her sensitivity to, well, everything! She itched, constantly. The only time she felt comfortable was standing naked in a warm shower and she would usually stand in said shower until the hot water heater, no longer able to keep up, would churn out something akin to icicles. The sweet, warm humidity had her skin drinking and slurping up any moisture it could hold.

But, alas, it wasn't enough. As soon as she got out of the shower and dried off, she would slather herself with Eucerin. It was a wretched lotion, supposedly scent-free but reminding her of the smell of the nursing home where her ex-boyfriend's grandmother spent her last days. It was the smell of old but it was the only lotion that gave her relief from the dry, white days of winter.

Her next task was to find her favorite tagless shirt. She cut the tags out of everything she bought. Why on Earth the general public would put up with these ridiculous tags was beyond her but she supposed the sewing of tags into American clothing managed to employ several thousand Chinese workers who would be unemployed if no tags were used at all. But Old Navy had finally gotten the message and printed their logo and sizing directly onto the back collar of their shirt. Heaven! Because even when the tags were cut there was still a bit left over that was just enough to drive her to drink.

Finally, she was dressed, in her coat and hat, ready to lather on one more layer of lotion on her hands, making sure she had packed said lotion (shea butter, unscented - the best) in her backpack. And last but not least was a thin layer of Vaseline on her face, to counter the cold, January wind.

As she stepped outside she thought of hot, humid July days when her skin would rejoice in the wealth of water droplets in the air!

(Whew! More than a paragraph, I know, but I hope it passes muster! I was inspired by my own dry skin woes!)

RiverPoet said...

As I texted you from my new gadget, this is BRILLIANT! I love that you dug into your own issues to bring Emma to life. I love that she hates the nursing home smell of the Eucerin. To me it smells like a hospital, which is where I first encountered it. I got some of it from a pharmacy tech - like it was contraband - before it was offered to the general public. It works, but damn.

Peace - D

Maggie May said...

We are an itchy family too and have to watch what soap powder we use and all that.
As for the tubes! Oh that sounds awful. I dread having this done & recently had a barium by mouth as I didn't like the idea of the camera & choking on it!

Lavinia Ladyslipper said...

Emma awakened in a cocoon of flannel warmth, her bedsheets enveloping her in softness. Sticking one toe daintily out, she tested the air temperature, and found it warm enough. Emerging from the bed, she donned her brushed cotton underclothes, and the soft woollen sweater which her grandmother had knit. Her skin sensitivity had long ago propelled her mother and grandmother to handsew and handknit most if not all of her garments, using the finest spun wools. After a breakfast of oatmeal and sliced bananas, she washed her hands with the unscented soap that had been rendered in the back shed by grandpa, donned her navy pea jacket, and climbed aboard the trap for the five mile journey to the country day school. The good scent of horses and the crisp fragrance of the frost-clad hills perked her spirits off and off she went for another day of R and R...