I smell like meat. The aroma is a combination of baloney, ham, genuine-artificial smoked turkey, potted beef and tuna, with a hint of Swiss cheese. My patients think Im using a new aftershave. They cant quite put their finger on it, but they have smelled it before.

At a deli perhaps?

Now, Ive recently become something of a metrosexual. (Please slow down and read that carefully again, Mom.) This means that for the first time in my life, I am into grooming. I am, as often as I can be, clean.

Yes, I am cleaner than ever. However, I smell like meat.

It all began when we moved to our new office. The new building is wonderfuland clean, unlike the old rat trap. In the old office, we fondly referred to one room as the room that smelled like meat. This just happened to be the room in which we kept the refrigerator, microwave, etc. Twenty-five-plus years of assorted spilled meat and fixins coated this old room with a kind of, well, gravy that attracted all manner of flora and fauna.

But, when we moved to our new office, we sacrificed the old room that smelled like meat. At least, I thought we did.

When we moved in, I just sat there at my new, huge desk in my new, huge private space. I was surrounded by light from two big windows! (Our old office had exactly ZERO windows!) I have a great big sliding glass door! My own bathroom! My own file cabinet! And, a refrigerator and microwave!

Wait a minute. What is that? Is that the smell of meat?

Dont Cut the Mustard
So, my new office doubles as a meat cooler. Wonderful.

My patients have been, well, patient. One lady asked me if something had died under the building. I said, Yes, and you need computer glasses. A young boy told me I smelled like a muskrat. I told him it was the ham in my office. He said he bet the ham tasted like muskrat. He might be right, but thats why they invented spicy mustard.

Speaking of which, I also smell like spicy mustard, at least for today. I forgot about the secret seal under the squirter top. Nothing would come out, so I decided to see what would happen if I squeezed the bottle with a pair of channel lock pliers. What happens is that the spicy mustard comes out the side and gets on your ham and baloney-tinged pants. If I had some wheat bread and a couple slices of tomato in my shirt pocket, I would be a sandwich.

So, as previously stated, I smell like meat. This, however stressful, does have its advantages in the practice of optometry. (I am a positive thinker, you know.) For example, depending on the patient, sometimes a funky meat smell is the lesser of two evils. I mean, there are times when Im glad my shirt smells like liverwurst because it covers up little Billys, uh, ambiance, shall we say.

Another advantage to a private office full of meat is that there is food in it, after all. My wife, an Atkins buff, refuses to allow cupcakes (which smell just lovely), but she does permit an unlimited supply of summer sausage. When you are starving to death between patients, the fact that the salami stinks is less important than the fact that it nourishes.

Finally, it is often a topic of conversation, and I feel it is critically important to discuss something besides the weather with patients. Theres nothing quite as intimate as answering the new patients inquiry, Doctor, can you help me see? And why do you smell like meat?