Tales from the Towers: Allergies

 I was invited to the hospital for an allergy test. A nice nurse stuck many tapes on my bare back, and I felt sticky all over. Then I sat opposite her and we chatted a bit. After a while I said to her:

"These labels on my back probably have done their job already. So aren't you going to take them off?"

She was stunned for a moment, then she said:

"What do you mean take them off? You go home with them, you keep them for the next two days, and... you don't take a shower. Or, if you must, you can take a shower from your waist down! Also try not to perspire! [that's a good one] ... Then you come back here and we'll see!"

"Wait a moment, I protested, you mean I have to sleep with all that stuff on my back? I feel like a knight in not exactly shining armor!"

I walked out of the hospital into the sweltering heat and I tried to disregard the itch which started to bother me beneath whatever she had stuck on my back. I arrived home and stood before a mirror. I turned to the left and to the right trying to see what's going on there on my back, but I am not enough of a contortionist. Here and there I caught a glimpse of some hieroglyphics, some mysterious marks which the good nurse had made on those band aids, or whatever it was. I called a friend and asked her to come to my home and take a look at my back.

"Why?" she wanted to know.

"The nurse wrote some things there, and I want you to read them!"

"What exactly are you talking about? What nurse?"

"It's my allergy. It's being researched. I can't see myself in the mirror!"

"What do you mean? Everybody sees himself in the mirror, except ghosts. Do you remember that old movie with a man, I think his name was Edwin? He was a ghost and he cried bitterly because he couldn't see himself in a mirror. But you are not a ghost, at least not yet, and you have a very large mirror! Why would anybody write on your back? Is it your itch? Did I tell you that I have one too? On my belly! Who is your nurse? Maybe I can ask her...."

"OK, forget it," I told her.

I knew from experience that this was getting me nowhere fast. Two days later I was on my way to the hospital again. The nurse, not quite gently, removed whatever was on my back asked me to put my blouse back on, and come back 3 days later. I felt quite relieved being rid of whatever had caused me two uncomfortable days and a bad night.

Just as I left the room, the good nurse shouted after me:

"And no shower yet! At least not on the upper half of your body!"

I had never, until now, showered only half my body. It was an unusual experience and I hoped that all the information which was written on my back had not been erased.

And then I went back to the hospital. The hospital is half an hour's taxi drive from the Towers and suddenly all cab drivers became very friendly with me. They probably hoped that my hospital visits will be frequent and would become a nice source of income, and that whatever sickness I was being treated for would not be cured very soon. I didn't say a word because I didn't want to disillusion them.

And once more I was back in the hospital. This time I sat opposite a good-looking lady doctor with long blond hair.

"I have some good news," she informed me, all smiles. "You aren't at all allergic!"

Leaving the hospital I thought to myself that the research on my allergies was actually not complete. Neither the pretty doctor nor the nurse knew about my allergy to my former neighbor, Malka, whom I meet in the supermarket from time to time. I catch a glimpse of her, and  my itch is back the same minute. Should I return to the hospital and report this? Will they again stick those tapes on my back? I'd rather not find out!

Tomorrow in the early morning some of  my friends who live here in the Towers are leaving on a three-day tour of Jerusalem. Itch or not, I decided to join.

Lucca