Thursday, December 26, 2013

Cuts and scrapes

     I think, I just may be a magnet for interesting people and situations. How else can you explain such strange things happening to me so often? Last week I took my daughter to the Doctor. An ordinary day, doing ordinary things. Right? Well, to start with, at the surprisingly short line to check in, a woman came up behind us with the energy level of an espresso addict. She asked us what was in our cups, and after telling her, she went on and on about how she would like to try them, and told us how she was sensitive to caffeine and for that reason she had iced tea each morning. As she said this she swirled around her drink so we could hear the ice cubes clinking together and hitting the walls of the cup. She was so interested in what we were drinking, that I almost handed her my cup. She was a sweet heart, very kind and very, very chatty and I am thankful to her because her company made the time in line even shorter. After our appointment we waited for the elevator and an adorable elderly lady walked up. She had a golfers cap and a coordinating outfit. She asked us which elevator we were waiting for and we told her we were waiting for the one going down. She happened to be waiting for the same one. So we waited together. It was about that time that I noticed she was holding something bright yellow in a bag. I didn't think much of it until we reached the lower floor and she asked directions to the pharmacy. I told her we were headed there and would be happy to take her there with us. She seemed happy and continued to follow us with her yellow-something-in-hand. When we reached the pharmacy I told her to stand here in this line and that she could go ahead of us. When she got to the drop off counter she placed her bottle of yellow on the counter and asked the technician if he knew what it was. He answered, "Betadine." "How do you know?!!" She angrily asked him. "Well, he answered, "I work in a pharmacy..."She seemed curious, but satisfied with that explanation and asked him, "What is it used for?" He answered, "Wounds." "Rooms?" She asked him. "No, not rooms, WOUNDS." "My WOMB?" She yelled, clearly shocked. "NO! WOUNDS! Cuts and scratches!" He yelled back, at this point nervously. "CUTS and SCRATCHES?" She asked. "Yes, YES! Cuts and scratches!" He yelled back. She left the counter and we approached. The technician was at this point spraying the counter with cleaner and wiping it down. Distractedly, he mentioned that her bag was leaking. We asked him why she had the bag and he said he had no idea and began to run his fingers through his hair. After giving our prescription to be filled, we turned around and looked for her, hoping to sit next to her while we waited but she was gone. Wherever she went, she took off quickly and we never saw her, or her bottle of Betadine again...But at least we know what to put on our cuts and scrapes now.