Modelling work can be seasonal if you do it the way i do, and by the end of the summer we can leave NYC and go back to the Indiana farm. I am so glad. Sabrina’s getting underfoot and she knows it and will be as glad to be away from us as i will to see the last of her for a while. She’s really done her job; Dana has stayed completely out of trouble the whole time.
I have a brief freak out one day at my gynecologist’s office on 116th street. Dr. Segal had found something suspicious on my mammogram but it turned out to be just an artifact of the imaging procedure. Having breasts and taking Estrogen could be a double whammy. Momentarily beset by my own mortality, i decide we’re going back to the farm until the first of the year.
It all makes me a little hypochondriacal.
I’m not satisfied to just do the usual breast exam; i check myself all over for cancer in the dawn hours while Dana is snoozing. It’s set off when on the morning talk show playing softly on the kitchen counter. Some guy talking about his serendipitous discovery of a colorectal cancer.
Now i stand naked, legs spread wide apart, breasts bobbing and back to the hall mirror. My head between my legs as i check for cancer lumps and bumps as i keep pushing my long hair away. Checking my asshole for cancer lumps and bumps. Nothing. No early warning sprouts yet.
Dana sleeps till noon and i am bored and moody. When she gets up and staggers to the bathroom i quickly cook her eggs and when she sits at the table and yawns i put a plateful of breakfast on the table in front of her.
You’re not eating? She says, mouthful of eggs.
Dont eat with your mouth open! I say. No, i’m too nervous to eat.
I’m going to finish being transgendered. I’ve scheduled the surgery.
I tried to get you not to do this. I wanted you to be a pretty little chick with a dick for me. You dont have to…
You disappoint me, honey, i say. You’re one of these people that would summon the devil and then complain when he doesnt behave.