Today I am adding to the annals of "uncomfortable things that happened to me". I am writing this propped up on the bed, completely blitzed on muscle relaxers and Vicodan, so bear with me, this might not make any sense at all.
Thursday, I went to get my nails done at my favorite nail salon - which should have been relaxing but totally wasn't. I have a hard time in many nail salons to begin with, because I can't hear very well, and the nail techs wear little surgical masks and have heavy accents. So I can never understand a word anyone says to me, and I can't call to make appointments because I certainly can't understand anything said over the phone through a face mask with a heavy accent. I am always too shy to ask where they are from, because I don't want to offend them by assuming that the heavy accent means they are recent arrivals to the US. These techs have my total admiration for being able to move to another country where the language is completely foreign, find jobs, and get crack-a-lackin. It just totally blows my mind, and drives home what a total pussy I am. I mean, I have been sitting on my dream for about 20 years, and still haven't worked up the gumption to make it happen.
A few times I have been brave enough to ask where they moved from - only to be met with the answer "Colorado" or "New York" which leaves me feeling like a complete tool. I am telling you all of this to illustrate just how very shy I am in the salons. Very un-Daffodil like. I usually sit quietly, never ask questions, try to explain what I want up front and hope for the best. If they have a TV to watch, so much the better. If they are watching cable TV instead of foreign music videos I spend the entire visit with my eyes glued to the screen. However, in this salon I have been going long enough to know a few of the techs, and I usually try to keep up some polite conversation for at least part of the time.
In this partucular salon, I have heard several nail techs talk about trips home to Vietnam, and when they bring it up I always ask them questions about their family and homeland. I have had several really nice chats there about Vietnam, and their families, and how old they were when they left. I find it all incredibly fascinating, and a reminder of how lucky I am to have been born here in the US.
Which is why, when the entire salon was watching a Nat Geo special on the Vietnam War, I was totally uncomfortable and felt like I needed to apologize and leave a big tip.
So we all sat there, in silence, watching this special. And the TV was over one shoulder, so I spent the entire time with my head twisted around, with a feeling of complete horror in my stomach. As we watched, the nail techs were mostly silent. Every so often one of them would comment about their personal experiences in connection with the war - family members that were killed, homes that were destroyed....the special was pretty graphic, and I was frozen in my seat. I wanted to distance myself from what was on the screen. I wanted to whip out my ID and prove I hadn't even been born yet. I wanted to explain that my parents voted for McGovern, that no one in my family had been in Vietnam, that I had nothing to do with those children running panicked down the dirt road, with flames all around them.
I was, in a word, tense.
I went home, and my neck was bugging me, so I lay down as instructed last week, and took a muscle relaxer. The next morning I woke up and couldn't turn my head.
Dudes, I threw out my neck watching National Geographic channel. I am so fucking old.
Which is why yesterday I went back to the clinic (sidenote- With my medical history, I will never ever EVER get health insurance again if I lose this coverage). It was my 3rd trip in one week. The doctor probably thinks I am insane (shut up. I totally heard that) and he decided that the best way to deal with the current situation was to shoot massive doses of muscle relaxers into the muscle that was all knotted up. So first I am sitting there in agony, and then I am sitting there in agony with a needle stabbed in my neck. And oh the blood from that needle. The doctor probably gave me 4 different injections - they didn't really help, actually, but they did burn like hell and leave a bruise, so that's something.....
It was, like, 3000 kinds of awesome. Then he told me to get a massage.
Gee doc, you know what ? You are right. I gotta get more massages. You buying ?
I am totally submitting the bills for these massages for reimbursement.
In the meantime, I walk with my head tilted slightly to one side, I am trying to make it look sexy/quizzical, by sort of mysteriously smiling and batting my eyelashes, but it's not really working out that way. I look like I have had a stroke, perhaps. I am always walking just ever-so-slightly to the left.
6 hours ago