I’m waiting for the third shoe to fall. You know how they say bad things always come in threes. Well, I’ve had two this week and no doubt #3 is on its way.
First, my cat died. Eliot, who has lived with my parents since I moved abroad, was 16. I used to swear he was really an enchanted human cursed to wear a cat body. It may be overly sentimental to call an animal a friend, but El surely was a personable, faithful companion to everyone who loved him.
Second, I was told I have thyroid tumors. Yesterday I had a biopsy and although the tumors are unlikely to be malignant, these two little lumps in my neck simply do not belong there. I’ll have to monitor them indefinitely; the doctor said I require two biopsies a year but I intend to bargain him down to once a year and then “forget” to schedule my appointment on alternate years. Needle biopsies are unpleasant.
Third,…? I have my fingers crossed to ward off anything truly devastating. You might want to cross yours, too.
