Everyone deserves a pass at some time in life
Many people join clubs for many different reasons; some enroll with the intent to help them socialize and meet new people, while others might join a club as a vehicle to give a contribution back to their community. And we can’t forget that if people believe in a cause, they may start a new club for that specific need.
Right about now, I’m thinking of starting my own club. It’s called the Throw in the Towel Club.
Oh, it has nothing to do with the downward slide of the economy today or the high price of gasoline or even the fact that you have to wait all day on hold to actually speak to a service person on the telephone.
Normally, I have to have those telephone menu options read back to me by the computer voice at least three times and then I still can’t find the right category.
But I think there are those kinds of clubs that deal with specific issues outlined above; however I’ve heard there is a waiting list to join them that is longer than the number of used purses on Craig’s List.
No, the Throw in the Towel Club is more about when it rains, it pours stuff, give me a break stuff and just back the car over me now stuff.
For example, say you have a catastrophic event; it could be physical or cosmetic in appearance, like you wake up one day and you have this enormous growth that is sticking out of your head. This thing represents almost another head or a gigantic goiter in appearance, pointing directly out of your neck.
It’s scary, not only because it is there, but it could be used as a direct conductor for a bolt of lightning. In fact that might be how you got the darn thing in the first place; of course you were too busy to notice the flashing light and the burn down your back.
Okay, stuff happens. After months of indecision, trying to hide various growths on your body and dressing in high collars, you finally have this thing removed.
This involves a high degree of being uncomfortable; you know, where you have to pick out those faces on a chart, just to measure your pain score, when all the healthcare professional has to do is look at your face and listen to your screams.
But toward the end of your treatment, just when you think it is safe to go into the water, you notice a large bunion crop up near your right big toe. This thing you can’t kill with a blowtorch, which means you have to hobble around with shoes that are at least 10 times your size, just so you can get them off at night. After awhile your shoes start to point in opposite directions so you look like a court jester.
It doesn’t have to be a bunion; it can be something as simple as a sty that droops out above your eye socket like an extra bladder.
The mere sight of this thing makes other people, who aren’t even pregnant, come down with morning sickness.
What I’m alluding to here is that once you’ve had a difficult illness and endured all the complications and side effects of the beast, it just doesn’t seem fair to be sidelined by a some minor physical complaint, such as a paper cut, that causes more pain and embarrassment than that ugly goiter.
And now you are obsessed with being sidelined by tight shoes and hourly runs to the pharmacy. It just seems like you should get a pass at some time in life. Let someone else take the wheel for awhile.
I guess the only thing to do is to put those used towels up for sale on the internet.