I had today off work, and being the productive person I am, I spent it in bed.
Granted, I’m not feeling the greatest – stupid headache. I think part of it is because I’m stressed, maybe a little scared.
I have a doctor’s appointment coming up. I know, it seems like such a simple thing. In many ways it is – I guess it’s more what the appointment represents.
See, it’s my yearly checkup with the cancer specialist. That’s right – I had cancer. It’s not something I talk about a lot because frankly, I don’t think it warrants my breath. See I lucked out, I found out I had cancer after it was all said and done. I’m no hero. The heros are those who wake up and know they have cancer and still choose to live life.
Each time I look in the mirror I see that scar across my neck. A scar that taught me much about myself and life. A scar that changed me in more ways than one. A scar I am eternally grateful for.
I know it seems silly, but it scares me to go back to this doctor. It’s like I have to accept it all over again. It’s funny how small things wrap themselves around you and seem impossible to shed.
There’s a few things like that for me. Things I would love to leave in my past forever.
Like the freaks I seem to attract. I thought I had moved past it until something Andy said to me at work. We were talking about his sore back and his less-than-relaxing experience with a massage therapist. I told him that my mom’s cure to any sore body part – from your back to your big toe is to sit in our hottub. He was slightly jealous that we owned one.
Then came the part of the conversation that I’m still mulling over. I mentioned that I seldom used it. He looked at me like I was insane and asked why, so out came the Steve story.
Steve liked me all through high school. Apparently he liked me in elementary school too, but moved to Texas. When he came back so did all his old feelings. No, this is not a romantic story. Steve was the type of guy who would come up and just grab me, basically pinning me against my locker and hold me against him. It was gross. It creeped me out. I didn’t matter how many times I said not to, he never listened.
During my first, and only year of university we were in two classes. He just knew things about my friends and I that we didn’t tell him. Like how to get to our homes without directions. And that I had a hottub in my backyard.
I know it seems silly, but I can’t sit out there alone without feeling his eyes on me. I know it’s all in my head, but I still feel it.
Andy told me I needed to get over it.
He’s right.
Maybe it’s different with guys though. It’s not the fact that Steve liked me that creeped me out. It was more how he acted on those feelings – that he invaded my privacy. I like to tell people about me and not have them just know those things.
Maybe I’m just crazy.
