Halfway There

Two & a half years done, two & a half to go!

Saw my oncologist today for a routine check-up. Appointments with the sixty-some-odd years old man causes complete anxiety in me because no matter how grandfatherly he is, he is my messenger of death. Each visit as I get another cancer-free report, he is friendlier and less guarded. This time he joked about me not having any new tattoos, (One would think he had never seen a tattooed young lady, but I guess he doesn't in his line of work.) but I assured him there would probably be a new one by the next visit. I also was not certain if he was playing with me because the last tattoos I received were my little 'love dots,' the markers for my radiation treatment. We also chatted about my sex life (actually, the lack of) and he seemed suprised, but pleased. It wasn't until the start of the physical exam that I realized I wore my bikini underwear with little snowmen all over them. Maybe I was excited that someone finally would see them. I swore I saw him smile when he saw a small portion of them as he checked my abdomen. I'll make a note to wear the plain white undies for the next visit.

I tend not to joke with Dr. C. because I am afraid I'll give him a heart attack. Maybe when I hit the three year mark, I'll ask him the question I desperately want (& have for a long time wanted) to ask him. It is safe to get my nipple pierced after being radiated? Hopefully it won't kill him.

I really am shy. It's my mind that isn't.