Dawn Reader

Dawn Reader
from Open Door Coffee Co.; Hudson, OH; Oct. 26, 2016

Monday, October 1, 2018

What the--?



I remember, in my teenage years, checking the bathroom mirror in the morning before school and wondering just what in the hell had happened to me overnight. Some new grotesque growth on my face (invariably in a very prominent/visible location), some other change (let's be G-Rated here, shall we?) that seemed to have occurred overnight somewhere on my body--something that had manifestly not been there the night before. I'd looked, damn it!

Then, gradually, throughout my twenties, thirties, and beyond, things calmed down a little. Instead of overnight "miracles" (curses?) on my face (and elsewhere), the changes I noticed as I got older were internal ones--and almost all of them were definitely not good.

But now, in my early 70s, I seem to be back in junior high and high school. Stuff just appears on me--overnight--and I have no idea of its source. Bruises on my leg. Some egregious growth on my nose that my dermatologist will--with more pleasure that I like to think about--freeze with his trusty little can of liquid Arctic, a treatment that takes a week to ten days to become less taxing on those who must look at me.

Sometimes, these changes are alarming. This morning--as is my wont--I went downstairs about 5:45 when I first got up (still in my jammies--yes, I wear jammies--yes, I call them jammies). Into the kitchen I went to unload the dishwasher, put things away, grab a scone from the freezer and zap a little later when I head over to the coffee shop.

Then, upstairs I went to bid farewell to Joyce, who (as always) was heading out to the local health club to punish herself for unknown crimes. I headed then into the bathroom and noticed the back of my right hand was bleeding.

What the--?

I have no memory of hitting it--of someone attacking me (surely not Joyce!). I felt no pain at all. I just looked to see bubbles of blood forming there.

What the--?

I rinsed it. Showered. Medicated the "injury" and put a little band-aid on it. Still feeling no pain.

It looks weird, the spot. As if an aging vampire with only one tooth has taken a bite of me. I'll let you know if I feel immortal a little later today--if I feel a surge of superhuman strength--if I feel an aversion to garlic--if I glisten in the sunshine.

You never know ...

No comments:

Post a Comment