It's a Magic Number

They say bad things always happen in threes. I don’t know who they are, but they were right this past week. My sister, LM, would chalk it up to Mercury being in retrograde. That sounds like a bunch of astrological hokum to some people, but the fact that it’s referenced in the Farmer’s Almanac offers it a hint of legitimacy. Also, the Almanac states that when mercury does go in retrograde, it lasts about three weeks, and it happens three times a year. All these threes.

1. Last week, I took my cat Yoko to the vet. It was time for her annual exam, but she also had a lump on her side, close to her abdomen, that worried me. She isn’t getting any younger, and she isn’t a fan of the vet, so the idea of regular medical supervision is off the table. I still wanted to know what the lump was, even if I doubted doing anything about it.

Yoko demonstrated why at the vet’s office. After attacking him and refusing to leave the relative safety of her carrier, she ripped two claws out fighting the exam. She didn’t just leave a couple of broken fingernails on the table; she also left smears of blood all over, even on the old towel they threw over her head. The towel is supposed to somehow make her feel more secure, but it just pisses her off. At least it provides some protection for the vet from her angry and sharp parts.

After fighting to get her on the scale and back on the table and then of course to figure out the source of all the blood, the vet had to examine her for that lump. PSA to all of you cat owners: Cats don’t get lumps. It’s not their thing. If your cat has a lump, you should get it checked out, if you are feeling brave enough.  He palpated her and she resisted. The towel fell off and had to be repositioned. The more he felt around her, the more agitated she became, and still, he couldn’t locate the lump.

So, long story short: Yoko’s lump turned out to be a blocked mammary gland. He was able to take care of it, but I won’t go into how. I referred to it as her nipple zit, and he requested that I not tell anyone that, nor should I let anyone know he is our vet.  This is the much abbreviated version of this story. You’re welcome.

Her twenty minute vet exam took over an hour and a half. I don’t think either of us has recovered yet.

2. My young driver, the teen, had her first fender bender. I shan’t go into too much detail about this one either, as it is a long way from resolution.

I knew how she felt.  I had a minor accident the first day I drove my car to school when I was seventeen. It is a rite of passage, unfortunately.

She is fine. The car is drivable. It wasn’t her fault. I don’t think either of us has recovered yet.

3. Sunday morning, I was fussing at my husband. He was lying in bed and asked when S, our younger daughter, needed to be picked up from a slumber party. I told him he was asking the question wrong. He needed to ask what time he needed to pick up S from her slumber party. Then I walked into the chaise lounge in my bedroom and smashed my toe with such force and speed I heard a loud pop.

I knew that sensation well. I have broken almost all of my toes over the past twenty something years, some of them more than once. This time it was my right pinky toe. It may be the third time I have broken the right pinky. It has all blended together by this point, a mashup of painful, swollen, bruised toes. When am I going to learn?

I threw myself face down on the carpet and cursed a blue streak. Blue streak is also an apt description of the current state of my right pinky toe.

 

My husband said “karma” to me from the bed. I got up and hobbled down the stairs to ice my foot.

You don’t realize the importance of the pinky toe until it is out of commission. It might not do much but cry Whee! Whee! Whee! all the way home, until you try fitting it into any shoe. It’s currently the size of the big toe on the other side of the foot. Shoes are not constructed to accommodate two big toes. Taping it to its neighbor is not yet manageable, due to the swelling. I won’t be fitting this toe into a spin shoe or balancing in any yoga poses for at least a few days. This toe is not up for a brisk walk in the neighborhood or the joy of my favorite dance class. Needless to say, I have not recovered yet.

If bad things happen in threes, then what exactly is the number of good things?