That brings back a long-forgotten early-childhood memory.
[In reply to]
I had a fancy harmonica that had been my mom's when she was a girl. The outside had come off, exposing the reeds, so that when you played it, the reeds would tickle the insides of your lips. As the little neighbor girl said, "It buzzes your gigs." "Gigs" was a word she made up to mean the strip of skin between your lips and gums at the front of your mouth. Wow, that memory is about 50 years old (and the harmonica is probably 80 years old by now.)
Then they had to apply a sticky Saran wrap kind of sheet to my skin to provide a sterile field. Just the nurse touching me to apply it sent me around the bend. Then the anesthesiologist came in with his sneaky hands to insert the catheter. He kept trying to barely touch me and that was the worst: all that dancing around with his fingers at the small of my back was crazy-making! I told him just to lay his hands on me, Jesus-style, and stick the needle in. The needle was a piece of cake once all the tickling stopped!