I Want a Medal

I wore my !@#$% compression sleeve for nearly 10 hours today—two hours before takeoff, all five hours and 45 minutes of the flight, and another two hours after landing.

What's it like to wear a compression sleeve for 9.75 hours?

Imagine control-top pantyhose.

Now imagine control-all-the-way-down pantyhose.

Now imagine the same pantyhose about five sizes too small.

Now imagine wrestling that vise-like garment onto your arm so that the waistband-equivalent is practically cutting off the circulation right about at your armpit.

Then sit in the same position in a coach-class seat for nearly six hours, unable to bend your left arm more than a few degrees.

Keep flexing your thumb, which will have assumed narcoleptic-like properties.

Then, hours later, try to get the damn thing off without removing a layer or two of skin in the process.

Only five more days until I get to do it all again.