Incident

Herself has scheduled a cortisone shot to address the now-tedious hip problem.  She dreads the event, for it involves a loathsome medically-induced vulnerability. All the same, though, she will do what needs to be done, for she has been reassured by several people that the shot will be indeed quite helpful.

She was informing a long-term Acquaintance about the upcoming appointment.  She quipped that she would likely soon be meeting her deductible for her health insurance, so if she needs anything else medically, she hopes it'll happen later this year so that the insurance would cover more of the costs.

The Acquaintance responded, "Well, what about that lump on the side of your face, can you get it removed?"

Blindsided.

What?  Acquaintance must mean the flesh-colored bump -- a benign intradermal nevus -- near Herself's right eyebrow.  It's not necessarily small, nor is it particularly large. It does not bother Herself at all unless she accidentally scratches it.  Is it so unsightly? What?

Herself stumbled; how to respond to such a statement?  Defensiveness. "It's benign and does not bother me.  Does it bother you?  I can have you sit on my left side from now on if it does." And surprise. "I am quite surprised that you would mention such a thing."

Her acquaintance countered, "I don't know why, I've mentioned it to you before."

What? When?  Oh, yes.  A couple of years ago, Herself and her Beloved were out to dinner with Acquaintance, Acquaintance's spouse, and Acquaintance's cousin who was visiting from out of town. Suddenly, Acquaintance turned to Herself, stared purposefully at Herself's eyebrow region, and said, "What IS THAT?"  Herself stumbled then, too, and explained it was a harmless spot.  She attributed the odd question to the amount of wine that had been drunk at the meal. It had not been discussed before, nor since, until now.

Herself was still astonished.  "I am quite taken aback that you would mention such a personal thing during a casual conversation on the telephone."

The Acquaintance countered, in what seemed to Herself to be the type of voice normally reserved for hysterical or tantruming children:  "It's clear I've made you angry."  "Yes, I'm angry. Well, I'm shocked and surprised at the inappropriate conversation.  And I need to go pick up Offspring the Second from school, so I'm going to hang up now."  And she did.

Sucker-punched. 

Why would a person suggest out of the blue that another person have a cosmetic procedure done?  Under what possible circumstances could unsolicited advice of this kind ever be appropriate?  Herself cannot imagine.

While Herself contemplated this bizarre conversation, her self-esteem dejectedly crawled under the desk to hide.

Later on, an e-mail arrived from the Acquaintance, offering amends -- of sorts:

"OK, by training and personality I am direct and open about medical things....straightforward and quite likely tactless."  Direct, open, straightforward - so many positive words, and particularly important  characteristics when discussing medical things.  Is this a "medical thing", though?  No.  It is a cosmetic thing.  There's a world of difference there.  Tactless does seem appropriate under the circumstances, though.

"You are ultra private and ultra sensitive and I forgot to respect that."  Ultra sensitive - unless we're discussing a condom, that cannot truly be considered as anything other than negative.  And how does one forget to respect a personality characteristic of someone whom one has known for so long?

"So, I apologize and will in future NEVER discuss physical issues unless you introduce the topic." Darn tootin'.

"Truce?"  Doesn't a truce imply a cessation of hostilities between two battling parties?  Herself has done nothing wrong or aggressive, except to be appalled at the unexpected commentary.

Herself waited until the most polite response she could muster wrote itself within her brain, and sent a return e-mail:  "I appreciate your message. I do agree that it is best that we refrain from discussing physical issues -- be they medical, cosmetic, or otherwise -- regarding myself and the children as well."  Hopefully, that will prevent any further questions posed by the Acquaintance regarding the Offspring's skin care regimens, orthodonture, and vaccinations. Herself has previously fielded such queries from the Acquaintance, and "I don't care to discuss such matters" has been ineffectual in the past in putting the Acquaintance on notice that these were not appropriate conversation topics. Perhaps now, Herself's requests will be honored.    

The Acquaintance replied:  "Consider it done."

Bitterly:  sounds like you are doing Herself a favor.

Herself continues to be astounded. Misgivings tiptoe quietly into her conscious. She asks herself whether she might in fact be excessively sensitive.  

Am I damaged or defective somehow, in that I lack an ability to judge or temper the strength and appropriateness of my emotions? 

She is at a loss. She imagines that she has found herself at the edge of a precipice, with rage, self-hatred, and doubt spread out across the landscape like the fiery plains of Mordor. Ah, yes. See? The epitome of ultra-sensitive.

She must step away and trust herself.  It is not her fault, this time. 

Mordor can be found at http://de.lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Mordor