Perkin's Paste. The ultrasound gel reeks of Perkin's Paste and instead of lying in a clinical and cold room being pummelled and poked, I am transported back to my childhood classroom.
And then quickly flung back into reality by a command to roll onto my side. I comment on the smell memory.
"A lot of people are telling me that!"
She is gentle and friendly chatting away whilst sending these signals to view my insides.
The thought comes to me as I lay there wondering what is appearing on her screen...
Is this how they felt? Is this how my roll call of dead friends thought whilst awaiting this prodding procedure to finish? Reassuring themselves that all would be well and it was mere paranoia sending the chill of unease to their very marrow?
I can no longer can ask them, can I? For they are gone. A roll call of people passed too soon, children motherless, fatherless, spouses lonely. so very, very many.
Are we a generation who by our very way of living have condemned ourselves to disease, death, illness, loss?
What have we done to ourselves?
A generation full of health issues, obesity, early demise...
Is this us?
Autism and Intense Interests: Why We Love What We Love and Why It Should Matter to You - [image: mardi gras bead overload] *Photo © Deanna | Flickr/Creative Commons* [image: White child with short brown hair holding up a massive bunch of colorfu...
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