If It’s Gotta Be Clean, It’s Gotta Be Tide-y
Do you remember the Tide Pod challenge a couple of years ago? The compacted, swirled colours were so irresistible to some that it had me questioning the intelligence of humankind and had others creating a candy that replicated a pod. I am aware that I shouldn’t bite into Tide Pods, but I was not aware that I was allergic to them…
About a month ago I started to experience a tight throat and had developed a small rash on the left side of my chest. After one conversation with a co-worker, I was convinced I was reacting to the medical masks we wear at work.
That evening after I had shifted from a Recreation Therapist to a Specialist in allergic reactions, I crawled into bed with clean pyjamas and fresh sheets.
In the middle of the night I woke up gasping for air. My throat was closing, my nose was running and I was itchier than Phoebe and Charlie Sheen with chicken pox.
I immediately thought, I am going to die single, alone and the paramedics are going to see the dirty dishes in my sink. I leaped out of bed and considered stabbing myself with my EpiPen (intended for my severe wasp allergy) and driving to the Emergency room.
Although, one thing I am not allergic to is stubbornness, so I stayed put.
I began to chug water out of my bathroom faucet because that would cure me, right? I then saw my laundry detergent in the corner of my eye. (FYI my washing machine is located in a nook in my washroom. I don’t randomly keep my laundry detergent next to my tampons).
I calculated when I purchased Free & Gentle Tide. Math has never been my strong suit, but my symptoms and the date of delivery did correlate. You can call me Dr. Watson, but don’t call this product hypoallergenic.
I quickly stripped my bed, clothes and cat from his slumber.
I survived the traumatic episode and have since rewashed my entire closet, but perhaps some of my clothes need replacing…
In Amb(ass)ador, I looked stunned. Today, I looked unkept.
Every night before I go to bed, I lay out tomorrow’s work outfit. If and when I hit snooze too many times and subsequently oversleep, I need all of the time I can get in the morning and still show up to work with a well planned outfit.
This eliminated the 8:00am clothes crisis until I moved to Calgary where the weather forecast changes more times than I change Netflix series.
One day I was wearing a black blouse with leaf-patterned pants when a resident entered the office. He took one look at me and quickly scooted closer. I kindly reminded him of physical distancing, but he shook his head and reached for my bicep.
I was not aware that my t-shirt sleeve was all bunched up and my tan bra strap was hanging low and wobbling to and fro. I am not sure if he could have tied it in a bow.
He pulled my sleeve down and smoothed it out hiding my bra strap and restoring my dignity.
I turned to him and declared, “you always keep me in line.”
He replied, “it’s a full time job.”
My throat is no longer tight, but it looks as though as my bra strap needs to be.
