The Nose Knows?
I found an article that says it is possible to unlock an iPhone or iPad with your nose. This comes in handy when your hands are full, dirty, or tied behind your back after seizure by pirates. If your gift of forethought led you to find a MacGuyver-style workaround in case of emergency, your nose print will unlock your ability to hit the emergency call button. How cool is that?
(Please have someone video your attempts to set your nose print as your unlock code. You could become a YouTube sensation.) Another article says a dog’s nose print can be used to prove its identity like a fingerprint can prove a human’s identity. I am sure this is important information for some reason on some occasion.
Until yesterday, I had one distinguishing feature about my nose that has been in place since I was seventeen years old. It was then when I developed a second case of chickenpox. I had a mild case years before. I had the full-blown, extra-itchy kind the second time around. Apparently, this makes me more vulnerable to Shingles someday. Yay. More shots to prevent another problem.
I hate needles.
The indentation left by a malicious pox now has company. The new feature overwhelms the former. Skin cancer required removal of a couple of layers of the other side of my nose. The nurse helpfully took photos and offered to show them to me before the reconstruction began. I passed on the opportunity.
It was not good.
The doctor and his team cut and spliced, nipped and tucked until he said triumphantly, “There! All done!” More photos. More wifely moments of forced smiles and encouragement.
My love language is words of affirmation according to Dr. Gary Chapman in his best-seller The Five Love Languages. It took a while to hear what I was listening for yesterday. Today, it got worse.
The bandages came off after the required twenty-four-hour wait. My wife is now an expert in sounds that accompany the word “yuck.” I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That was enough. My bride had to call in a neighbor who is a medical professional and loves this kind of stuff. It took the two of them a half hour to clean my wound and reapply ointment and bandages.
I cannot sleep with my CPAP breathing apparatus because it will not fit over my bandages and around the painful area. Ollie the Border Collie reclined at my feet as I slept sitting up last night. On the other hand, my bride had her best night’s sleep in quite a while. So there’s that.
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Ruth 1:20, 21 “Don’t call me Naomi. Call me Mara,” she answered, “for the Almighty has made me very bitter. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me back empty. Why do you call me Naomi, since the LORD has opposed me, and the Almighty has afflicted me?” (CSB)