You know that feeling you get, out of nowhere, on the back of your neck or your shoulder, leg, foot, ear, or head? Sometimes barely a whisper of feeling but other times so intense it makes you flinch?
I refer to THE ITCH.
The itch that cannot be scratched because Louise is holding my hands and arms prisoner. It's enough to make me batshit crazy. Especially if nobody is immediately available to help OR if the person immediately available has an aversion to touching people, even her mother. (In her defense, she tries to help but, recognizing and respecting her reluctance, I refrain from requesting she provide relief.)
Eventually the itch goes away. But not before I remember those halcyon days when I was able to raise and stretch my arms and hands and fingers, and just for a moment I think I must surely still be able to reach around to the back of my neck... until I try, and I cannot.
The next time you scratch an itch, relish it.
8 hours ago