MDS: Please Don't Touch!

I've taken my MDS-rattled body with its Vidaza shots-riddled arms to Lake Placid, NY, for a meeting of ski writers.

Yes, ski writers do continue to live through summertime. Some even function with a resemblance of normalcy. Well, as normal as ski writers can be.

But, I digress.

Here's the thing. We all gathered at the Olympic ski jumping complex for a welcome barbecue and jumping demo. (Yes, these fearless folks can jump in summer—but that's a whole 'nother topic.)

And, of course, upon seeing many old friends and colleagues, there was much hand-shaking and many smile-filled greetings.

And, upper arm patting. And arm gripping, as folks offered a "Hi! How are you?"

Nice.

But, these arms are shot full of holes and the residual bruises and soreness brought on by the Vidaza shots. Each touch is painful.

What's the etiquette in this situation? Does one

• repeatedly murmur, "Don't touch the arms, please?"
• wear a warning label on one's sleeve?
• grin and bear it?

Worse, for those who don't know—or don't remember—what this boy is suffering, a greeting laced with a flinch, a grimace and a "please don't touch" warning then requires a lengthy explanation of the MDS condition. And that's not the kind of upbeat conversation that goes with a welcome barbecue.

Just another of the MDS life's little challenges. It may be tedious, but it isn't boring.