Friday, March 10, 2017
Normally, I change my earrings regularly, however I have worn the same pair in since Christmas day. My 19 year old son, who is in the Army gifted me a diamond necklace and earrings to match. Aside from homemade cards and a fistful of flowers I received, this was the very first present he bought me with his own money. It is difficult to fully express how deeply this touched me. Diamond earrings. I had never had a pair. I just didn't want to lose them so particular attention was devoted to screwing the backs securely on the posts. Obsessively, I check to make sure I have both and that there is no risk of losing them.
My right ear throbbed. The earring was on too tight. Quiet and in bed, the pain intensified. I reached my left hand over to the back of my right lobe. I twisted the back, but I was not sure which direction would release it. It pained so. I turned one way, then got nervous and turned the other way. This uncertainty went on for about 15 minutes.
Ordinarily, my husband who has combed through tangles in my hair, dropped everything to scratch my back and massaged my feet without complaining would certainly have attempted to grasp and untwist a tiny earring back on my behalf. Instead, I needed to find help.
"Eddaejia?" I yelled to my daughter. Waited for a reply, but all there was was silence. After all, it was the middle of the night; she was asleep. It was clear I needed help and soon. By morning she would be racing around, make-up and hair with no time to help me. I would look elsewhere.
I work among angels. People who truly care for each other. Really. My friend attempted to release my throbbing ear from the vice, but stopped. Waving her hands she squealed, "I don't want to hurt you."
"You can't hurt me anymore than I'm already hurt," I replied.
Right on cue, a colleague with young children steps through the door. My friend asks her to help. She bends down to look at my ear. "OOOH,: she says long and drawn out, a tone that carries bad news.
"What? That doesn't sound good." I look up at her, trying to read her face.
"'Just swollen," she replies. Undeterred she grabs the earring back and begins to twist. "Righty tighty, lefty loosey." Within minutes both earrings are removed and I feel some relief.
For days, I ignored my pain until it was constant. With no one available to help me at home, I relied on those I work with. How very lucky I am to work in such a kind and supportive place. It is just another reminder of how I am surrounded empathetic, compassionate people. I bet they would even give me a good back scratch, if I asked. How lucky am I?