Stinky masks

This morning I drove to Bellevue for a physical therapy appointment with a therapist who specializes in PT for breast surgery patients. One of the odder outcomes of having surgery done on your armpit (in case you're wondering) is simultaneous pain and numbness starting under the arm and radiating toward the elbow. My range of motion is still limited too, and I would like it back. I've been hoping for a two-fer deal with this therapist, and that along with helping me with the post-surgery recovery, she can give me some exercises to get rid of the upper-arm wanga that wasn't there ten years ago.

I thought about taking a bus to this appointment. I like to take transit, especially when going to the east side. But I got lazy and decided to drive. When I got there, I saw I had a voice mail. I put on a mask and entered the hospital as I was listening to the voice mail. It was physical therapy, telling me my therapist was sick. Dammit. I'd just crawled across the 520 floating bridge and entered the hellish city of Bellevue, all for nought.

I was so pissed that I grabbed more than my usual amount of masks on the way out of the hospital.

Next time, I'm definitely taking transit.

I grab masks when I'm in a hospital because I want to make sure they're handy when I need them. It's also a way to cut down costs. The damned things are expensive.

Later, I rode a bus in the tunnel while going to lunch with some coworkers. I rode a bus back, too. Both times I grabbed masks that I'd picked up somewhere (probably Swedish - more about that in a minute). They weren't like the kind I buy, which are folded and when pulled over my head, expand. These were shaped more rigidly, with a handy metal strip over the nose to provide the illusion of a barrier against disease.

They stank! I couldn't believe it. Someone in marketing must have thought "Let's put a deodorant in these masks!" In addition, the handy metal strip appears to have been engineered, regardless of how they're bent, to cause my breath to steam up my glasses. So not only am I wearing a mask on a bus, my glasses are steamed. I think this is a nice touch. It adds to the whole monster persona I've been hoping to achieve.

Since I'd driven, I swung by Swedish on my way home to see my beloved Aunt Rachel. She did a swan dive on the escalators at Pacific Place a few days ago, and is taking a Swedish vacation. She's on the cardiac unit, so when I arrived at the reception desk with a mask on, the RN asked "Do you have a cold?"

"Nope, I'm on chemo."

She waved me on through. She's not worried about chemo or cancer, she just wants to make sure I don't have a bug.

Since my hair's going to start falling out soon, I cut it and dyed it blond. I was really pleased to see that I match Rachel. I think we look like sisters. Maybe twins.