“Should we move on to the dumplings?” she will say. And then “Is it hot? Shall we run the air?”
The woman with the crisp white coat who showed me into the darkened ultra-sound room was familiar. In fact, I remembered her well, because her name is Claudia, and she is from Brazil. It’s an odd examination, the ultra-sound: you are in a darkened room, in close proximity to a technician who slides a wand up and down your goop-covered abdomen (in my case), and stares at a screen, without uttering a word on what she is seeing. You can’t make aimless chitchat because she is concentrating so you are left with eyes turned towards the ceiling, wondering if she is seeing something you are not going to know about until your doctor calls you.
A couple of years ago, once I got home after a fundraising lunch, I looked in the goodie bag that had been left under my chair, and found a pair of attractive bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I had read about these products online, in passing – clearly a well orchestrated media campaign, if even I took notice.
Whenever I get a cold, I am always terrified I will not regain the sense of smell or taste. A few years ago, after two weeks had gone by and the cold was long gone, I couldn’t smell anything yet, and the only tastes that came through my buds were sweet, salty or sour. Everything else was indistinguishable. As a chef, not being able to taste or smell is a major handicap and I ran to my doctor, in a state of panic. He reassured me and told me that, sometimes, it takes longer.
He was right, and my taste buds and nose returned to work a few days later.