I sit with the experimentation of Tiger and Bella today, as I think in some way I am batting a door between who I was, and who I might be, and I am not batting very hard, and curiosity is not enough to kill a cat, and yet, it is there, like a little ping-pong ball flung softly in the air, some new way to explore and see where I go, and where and when I stop, and then, go again.
I feel like a mouse, scampering and avoiding the gaze of the cat. I think I want to stay under the radar for awhile of the medical gaze, and, perhaps, my medical visit yesterday was a trigger for that. I don't understand why doctors seem so flabbergasted that their office is not my favorite place. I don't understand anymore than they, it seems. I find it a scary place. I wish I could somehow convey that without them taking it personally.
My personal doctor has a dog, Scrappy. Scrappy was very interested in licking my feet. It reminded me that my feet still aren't right as to nerve endings, and they are better, and I feel today like Scrappy was trying to help me heal. I think I do well with dog therapy. It is certainly comforting to be licked, though I don't want my doctor to lick me. I don't think she has a long enough tongue anyway.
She also informed me that I still have "edema" in my last breast, and that could last for at least five years. I look up edema. It is a "swelling of any organ or tissue due to accumulation of excess lymph fluid, without an increase of the number of cells in the affected tissue."
Sometimes I wonder why I waited to get my breast checked, and when I go, I know why. I do not find it a comforting place, even with the help of Scrappy. I think both Scrappy and I would have preferred to be outside.