seeing red (lyn)

Skip weight watchers in anticipation of a busy day. Cynthia has invited me to go with her to a taping of Dr. Oz, a show I never watch.  But I like seeing Cynthia (whom I rarely see since she moved to New Jersey), and going to a TV show taping will be fun at best, different at worst.

We skip lunch as Cynthia has a late breakfast. I grab a tuna salad on a sandwich thin and meet Cynthia a little after noon.  The taping is at 3, but we need to arrive by 1:30.

We decide to walk.  It’s less than two miles, and it’s a beautiful winter’s day.  Cold, but sunny.  We cut through Central Park, and arrive at Rockefeller Center early.  We get in a 30-minute line to register.  Once that’s done and we get our Dr. Oz paper bracelets (like the ones you are given in a hospital), we are told to come back in 40 minutes.  Not enough time to go anywhere, but too long to just hang around.  Fine, we’ll just go to the bathrooms, two levels down.  Another long line awaits us there.  

On our way back to the studio my nose starts to bleed.  This is the third time in the past ten days.  It’s a mess, and Kleenix is ineffective.  We go to a little convenience store in the lobby of 30 Rock where a helpful salesgirl lets me take her whole roll of paper towels.  Who cares that my hair looks good (thanks to Sara at Aveda), when I’m holding a paper towel to my face as blood drips ferociously from my nose.  Finally it stops. 

We rush to the next line where we wait another 20 minutes or so before we are allowed into the Dr. Oz designated elevator.  By 2:45, we are finally seated.  We are instructed to place our coats and purses under our chairs (one woman refuses) and then given a mini-lecture on audience etiquette.  The show is moderately interesting, but I sit clutching a paper towel through the entire 90-minute taping, just in case.

Before dinner, my nose bleeds again.  And then again, two hours later.  I’m worried about going to sleep tonight on my just-changed clean white sheets.