Gory Details

So, I was in class the other day.  Well, I'm in class every weekday these days, so perhaps that isn't terribly helpful, but we were talking about skincare.  That might sound like it's going back to my Bath & Body Works times, when I tried to find people the right kind of scent to match their preferences, but, nope, we were looking at a LOT of pictures.  By the time we got to the full-thickness pressure injuries (not a Google search for the faint of heart), I was very much ready with questions when the instructor was ready to leave space for them.  I asked about packing wounds, a bit on debridement, and we discussed the mechanics honestly.

And in my excitement, I had a thought that sliced through, shining like a brilliant beacon, and I basked in a moment of beautiful light.

In my head, I had been already apologizing and ready to help the conversation move on to another topic.  I...didn't have to do that here.  My curiosity was welcome here.  I didn't have to shut down that joy in learning.  I didn't have to worry about changing the subject because it was making someone queasy or uncomfortable.  That energy was welcome here. My weird questions like "can a person with an ostomy take a suppository?" or "how would you take blood pressure for someone without arms?" or "how do you pack a wound in x situation with y drainage?" are welcome in these places.  My fascination in how the body is working on a functional and cellular level doesn't automatically make me a weirdo and/or serial killer. 

I'm often the guy in the middle

That part of me is welcome here.  I can be fascinated and talking in long, rambling sentences about my new discoveries and dive deep into how the body works and what happens when the body breaks down and I didn't have to stifle that part of me or swiftly change the subject.  There have been pockets of persons, but I haven't felt this particular license in such a large group in a while.  And it is beautifully freeing.