A Blessing or a Curse

During my fifty plus years I seem to have developed a weakening immune system. The attraction towards all sorts of nasty bugs, while none are welcome, all tend to over extend their visit. Now I am on even higher alert thanks to the H1N1 flu virus. I have been seriously considering buying in a bulk supply of disposable gloves and face masks.
Memory replay utters my mothers sentiments time and again, “If there is anything out there creeping and crawling, leave it to Josephine, she is sure to catch it first and bring it home to everyone else.” It’s not a good feeling being that popular!
And to make matters worst, ever since my early childhood, my inability to leave well enough alone, continues to plague me. Any and all superficial injuries I happen to sustain to my flesh generates this compulsive need to pick at them. You’d think, by now, my immune system would be better able to withstand these foreign invaders. On second thought maybe the gloves could offer a fitting solution for this particular compulsive habit. After all my mother did threaten me time and again that she would tie a pair of mittens to my wrists to prevent me from picking my scabs and sores.
Being born so close to Hallowe’en, I often wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that I couldn’t rest until the blood was oozing through the skin.
Speaking of unattractive displays, swollen ankles does nothing for my sex appeal either. Not only are they unsightly, but often times, it’s just downright uncomfortable. What’s the use of projecting a shapely figure in a short skirt only to draw attention to non-existent ankles. Well I suppose there is the alternative - stylish slacks. Contrary to my earlier belief, this is definitely not an (old age!) condition. Who’s old? Not me! That would be my grandmother.
“There’s more blood in a turnip!” My mother-in-law first introduced me to this expression one time when she saw me wearing a turtle neck sweater on a supposedly hot summer’s day. You know how it works. If it comes from your mother-in-law then chances are you interpret it the wrong way. Right?
Well her comment did rub me the wrong way which led to the discovery of yet another presumed old age condition - poor circulation.
Imagine my excitement though when my doctor informed me that I had Raynaud’s. This was completely new to me, and so therefore couldn’t possibly be considered an elderly condition.
However, anyone with this affliction can testify that there is nothing exciting about it neither is it restricted to any particular age group.
Air conditioning, any exposure to dampness, cold conditions whether it be water or air, and even digestion of cold foods and beverages can and does ice-olate a person. Not at all a pleasant experience. No, not even as an alternative for hot flashes. One curse is as bad as the other!
Thankfully, I am learning to adjust to this affliction. Whenever we go for a drive I must remember to take gloves, a scarf and a blanket. Yes, especially in summertime! My husband, who cannot tolerate the heat and loves air conditioning has agreed not to make fun of my year round accessories. While I may not look like I’m playing with a full deck, at least I’m not portraying an image of the walking dead!
With my birthday fast approaching Hallowe’en nipping at my heels the question remains do I feel ‘blessed or cursed?’