Lost and found

I am good with directions. I can easily find my way to an unfamiliar destination. I can also find my out. I make a good cab driver, my wife Aires once quipped. I am not afraid to test unknown streets and curves. If I get lost, I just roll my window down and ask politely for directions.

I also follow directions really well. I can be left alone to decipher how to set up a new software or how to build a book shelf.

But recently I made a big boo-boo with directions. Of all things, it had to be with a new prescription for Aires. Our gynecologist asked us to buy a skin patch. The patch has nitroglycerin which dilates blood vessels allowing better blood flow. It is usually for patients with heart problems but, for Aires, it is meant to regulate the blood flow from her cardiovascular system into the baby’s own system.

One late night, Aires asked me to read the directions. I got one patch and took off the protective covering and attached the patch on Aires’ tummy. For three nights, I did the same routine. The patch wouldn’t hold for a long period of time. Aires soon found out that I did something wrong. I was attaching the protective covering and not the adhesive patch that contained the medicine.

My only excuse? I was so sleepy that night when I read the directions that I got it all mixed up. My other excuse? Sorry, I am just human, still prone to make mistakes, no matter how great I claim to be with directions.

But Aires lost a little faith in me. She now double-checks everything I do when it comes to her prescription drugs. It may take some time again to get her confidence. But I believe she will believe in me in due time.

I got lost. I would find my way back home.