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The results from my breast cancer screening have come back negative; which even though I didn't expect to hear any different, is still good to know. Never having had a mammogram before, I was a bit nervous before going there, but you were all right and the examination really wasn't all that uncomfortable and certainly wasn't as painful as I had feared.

It's been 12 days since I've hurt myself, and my face seems to be returning to its more usual, non-swollen, shape. The bruises are starting to fade away, too, and my upper lip appears to be healing well: the stitches came out a week ago and appear to have done the trick of knitting my torn flesh back together, apart from where the gash runs through the vermillion zone. This part started bleeding again 2 days ago; it's not bleeding now but it's very sore and tingly. The swelling inside my mouth has gone done a lot, too, but I still can't eat solids very well unless I mash everything, and I've noticed that I can't taste very well, either. At the moment, I can only distinguish between 'bland' and 'very faintly sweet'.

Meanwhile, the gash on my shin refuses to scab over, howevermuch Betadine I keep pouring onto it.

More proof, if proof were needed, that I was born under an unlucky star came earlier this week when I had to go out for a couple of hours and when I came back, discovered that Leila and Manasse had both been locked in the wardrobe. This happens occasionally, although it's usually just the one cat who's stupid enough to sneak in and hide while I'm grabbing my coat, and they're usually smart enough to settle down and wait patiently for release. Not this time, though. This time, one or both of them decided to climb up to the topmost shelf, and USE MY BRAND NEW RED LEATHER JACKET THAT I'VE ONLY WORN ONCE as their means of getting there. One of the sleeves is now all puckered and torn, the jacket completely ruined.

Still, some people have real problems, and I shouldn't complain, really.

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Comments

( 8 Speak Like A Child — Shout To The Top )
enigmaticblues
Mar. 30th, 2012 03:10 pm (UTC)
Oh, man! A brand new red leather jacket ruined? I'd be ticked off.
gamiila
Mar. 30th, 2012 05:46 pm (UTC)
I know. There were so many other coats and jackets they could have chosen to shred -- but they picked that one, almost as if they knew seeing it in tatters would upset me most.
curiouswombat
Mar. 30th, 2012 08:06 pm (UTC)
Oh - rotten cats!

I do hope your face improves quickly - and your shin.
gamiila
Mar. 30th, 2012 09:35 pm (UTC)
They were very bad kitties, I agree.
jonesiexxx
Mar. 30th, 2012 08:18 pm (UTC)
Fucking cats, man.

I'm glad most of your health news is good. If your shin doesn't heal, please go back to the doctor. You'd want to rule out vascular issues.
gamiila
Mar. 30th, 2012 09:40 pm (UTC)
Fucking cats, man

Indeed.

Vascular issues? I'm too young, and too healthy, to have vascular issues. But I will keep an eye on this wound now.
suze2000
Mar. 31st, 2012 03:56 am (UTC)
Little buggers, as we would say here. On occasion, I've found Barry sat on my good boots in the wardrobe, which makes me unhappy, but at least he's not destroyed any yet.

Glad to hear the mammogram gave you the all clear. :)
gamiila
Mar. 31st, 2012 11:42 am (UTC)
I did harbour some murderous thoughts when I found out what they'd done, but I soon realised killing my cats wasn't going to make me feel any better re: the ruined jacket. So...they live...for now.
( 8 Speak Like A Child — Shout To The Top )

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