We are “Reasoning People.” But are we really that good at it?
I believed I had been bitten on the leg in the backyard.
Wait. That’s not
exactly correct.
It sounds like there are a lot of legs strewn about the premises,
and the one on which I believe I was bitten was the leg in the backyard.
Let me try that again.
Standing in the backyard, I believed I had been bitten on
the leg.
No, that’s-a no good either.
Do I believe I had been bitten on the leg only when I am
standing in the backyard, or do I believe I had been bitten on the leg standing
anywhere?
There must be a “right” way to say this. Lemme see.
---------------------------------------
Nope. I shall just
have to leave it inaccurate.
This post is not about precision in writing. (Though it easily could be.) It is instead about this:
Two days after I believe I had been bitten on the leg in the
backyard,
My lips swelled to about twice their usual size, their
“usual size”, already substantial.
That’s a whole lot of lip.
I see myself as a reasoning “Man with a Mind.” A problem arises, and I immediately look for
an answer. I’m like a superhero, though
by batting average of success suggests “No sequels.”
Anyway, let’s get to work.
Following the “bite on the leg” hypothesis, I take
anti-histamine medicine, and on the advice of a nutritionist, squeeze drops of a
homeopathic insect “antigen” under my tongue.
None of it helped.
Why?
Because my labial reaction was not, in fact, “bite on the
leg”-related. (Raising the possibility
that I had not been bitten on the leg in the backyard at all.)
Though I had followed a faulty trail, a “Man with a Mind” never
gives up.
He keeps searching for answers.
Which he knows he will find.
For he is “A Man with a Mind.”
We then went to Michiana on vacation, Dr. M, myself, and my
super-sized lips. (Which, with an American Airlines Gold Card, fly free.)
Almost immediately, things started to get worse, the
celebrated “Lippa-Palooza” joined by a drippy “congestion” symptom, accompanied
by coughing.
The “smart money” remains on “I’m allergic.” The “Man with A Mind” challenge is:
“To what?”
Suddenly, everything seems like a “possibility.” And, in our uncertain reasoning process, becomes one.
“It’s dust mites.”
(Our Michiana cabin undoubtedly has dust mites, and twenty years ago, I
was told that was the one thing I was allergic to.)
“It’s mold.” (Our
Michiana cabin unquestionably had mold.
And a friend of Rachel’s, suffering from fat lips had determined the reason
was mold, and that woman is a scientist!)
Passing the “Fruits and Vegetables” aisle in Barney’s supermarket, I see cartons of
strawberries. (Did I remember to wash
those strawberries I ate the day I thought I was bitten on the leg in the backyard
but perhaps wasn’t, or if I was it
had nothing to do with my lips?)
“Maybe it’s the strawberries.”
Later that day, eating the “Lake Perch” at Casey’s I had an enormous coughing fit.
“Maybe it’s the fish.”
(For a while, I had powerful suspicions about our rental car. Set in brackets because it’s embarrassing.)
Suddenly, like those “noir” movies where somebody goes nuts
and circling “faces” jabber around them, it was like,
“It’s dust mites!”
“It’s mold!”
“It’s strawberries!”
“It’s the fish!”
The person, clutching their head till they finally go mad.
When we got home, I went to an allergist. Checking my (rapidly growing) list of ingested
“Medicines and Supplements”, she quickly determined through research that my blood
pressure medicine sometimes presented such symptoms.
“But I’ve been taking it for ten years!” I exclaimed.
“Duddn’t matter,” she replied.
I find it difficult to trust a doctor who says “Duddn’t.” But, with the agreement of my Personal Care
Physician – who says “doesn’t” – it turned out the allergist was right.
I switched blood pressure medicines, and in days, my lips
returns to their normal pillowy selves.
I’m not sure I can help it.
I will continue to propose answers, although I consistently, borderline
ludicrously, fail.
Two days later, I develop a persistent tickle in my throat.
“All aboard for the “The Wrong Reason Express.”
