The doctor assistant gave the pack to me, reciting a memorized set of instructions. I nodded my head, having already heard it all during the first phase.

When I got home, I pulled out the cold pack and followed the instructions. I shook down the contents to the bottom. Then proceeded to “find” the inner pouch.

I squeezed.

Nothing happen. No surging of fluids that would make the pack instantly cold.

I used both hands, growling with all the strength I had.

It wouldn’t burst.

I recalled the first time when I had rolled on the floor near my bed trying to get the pack cold. Somehow I did it. And then I forgot how frustrating the experience was until now.

I wanted to toss the bag against the wall to break it, but thought better. Then I found the reusable pack in my freezer that Chris generously left for me. Because he knows I struggle too much with anything that requires dexterity.