The Antelope in the Living Room: The Real Story of Two People Sharing One Life by Melanie Shankle Page B

asked, “How was it?”
    And at that moment I saw the look in his eyes.
    He looked a little like Jack Bauer after that season of 24 when he was tortured by the bad guys. Of course, technically, that was every season of 24 , but you get what I’m saying.
    I looked at him and asked, “Did it hurt?”
    “It was the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.”
    “Seriously? The worst pain? Worse than when you had that deviated septum and your nose was packed with cotton?”
    “Yes. It was torture. I’m never going back.”
    “Wow. Kristie and Heather didn’t say anything about it hurting.”
    “Did you ask them if it hurt?”
    “Um. Well . . . no.”
    “Call them and ask if it was supposed to hurt. I knew we should have gone with Lupe.”
    I picked up the phone and called Kristie and Heather and found out that, yes, acupuncture can sometimes hurt. Especially when you’re dealing with chronic pain and nerve issues. That probably would have been a good question to ask BEFORE I scheduled the appointment for Perry.
    Oh, hindsight. You are funny.
    Thankfully, we can laugh about it now. And truth be told, I kind of laughed a little bit about it then. Not because my husband was in pain, but because I fancy myself to be some kind of pseudo medical expert since I sold cough medicine for ten years and didn’t ask what was probably the most important question.
    I was much more concerned about an unpronounceable last name that seemed to scream credibility, and a Frosty.
    Dr. T. told Perry that for the acupuncture to really work, he’d need to come in for about four or five sessions. I think that’s how long it takes to unblock your chi.
    Needless to say, Perry’s chi remains blocked.
    But on the plus side, I think he finally understands the level of pain I experienced after my belly-button ordeal. And there is nothing like empathy to bring a couple together.
    Or to give them a reason to make fun of each other’s pain tolerance.

CHAPTER 10
    Nilla Wafers Aren’t a Food Group
    O VER THE COURSE of a week not long ago, Perry and I spent almost every night rewatching Band of Brothers . It’s so rare that we agree on what constitutes good entertainment that we are often forced to watch the same movies repeatedly if we want to watch something together. The last time we’d watched the series all the way through was the summer right after Caroline was born. I remember it clearly because I was trying to lose the rest of my baby weight, and I’d allow myself one York Peppermint Pattie every night while we watched. I would unwrap that York Peppermint Pattie, smell the foil packaging as if it were a fine wine, and then try to make it last as long as possible by eating it in about twenty small bites. I didn’t find it AT ALL annoying that Perry inhaled the rest of the bag and washed it all down with a vanilla milkshakeyet still managed to lose weight that summer, while I subsisted on four pieces of lettuce and the occasional cheese cube and barely managed to drop three pounds.
    Of course, it feels a little strange to talk about the pain and sacrifice involved in eating only one chocolate mint treat while watching a show about World War II soldiers fighting in the harsh weather conditions with no winter clothing, limited ammunition, and very little food. But WHAT ABOUT THE LETTUCE I HAD TO EAT ALL SUMMER?
    Maybe I’m part of the GREATEST GENERATION after all. Or at least the generation that has made Jenny Craig a very wealthy woman.
    As we watched Band of Brothers , I was reminded of so many scenes I’d forgotten. Scenes that reminded me of the sacrifices those men made for our freedom. They truly are what made our country great.
    But I’ll tell you what else makes our country great   —the fact that ESPN actually televises a hot-dog-eating contest like it’s a real sporting event. Of course, in all fairness, competitive eating is totally a sport compared to, say, bowling or poker. A ninety-two-year-old grandmother can bowl