I wake at 5 AM, suddenly needing to pee. As I get up, in the dim light, I see a black, wet worm in my bed, 10 cm long, 1 cm thick. A leech? I panic, leap up and almost fall over. My heart's pounding madly. Turn on light and tear the bed apart. Nothing. My pulse races for minutes.

At last, I go back to bed.

I wake in the morning to find my penis is horribly bruised. The head is black, probably infected; the shaft and testicles the off-green of less severe bruising. This is the black worm in my dream, then! It was a warning. Horrible looking, and I fear the black is gangrene. How did this happen. How could I LET this happen?

When I steel myself to look closer... find I was half asleep and mistaken. It's not my penis at all. It's my left thumb!

It looks bad enough to amputate.

I look again--and I was mistaken, still half-asleep. Penis and thumb are there, untouched; the black and greenish bruised "thumb" is growing out of the underside of my left wrist. It's just my dewclaw! Being rather vestigial in us big cats, they often get infected--like wisdom teeth. A shame, but it can be removed without...

Wait a minute! The dewclaw is a feline thumb. And there's my real thumb above it, claw and all, fully opposable, perfectly healthy! That infected thing can't be my dewclaw. It's something ELSE.

So I look even closer, forcing myself despite my fear and disgust. The black part, maybe an inch long now, seems to be a parasite or cyst, and it's broken the skin--emerging? The sallow greenish area is behind and beneath. If I can remove the black thing, it may heal. Very slowly, I press behind the black thing, try to work it out. Fear it's full of toxic bacteria I'll squeeze into my bloodstream, so I take it very slow. Am I sure it's actually coming out, rather than just shrinking?

Yes--whatever it is, it moves as a unit. Not much progress for a long time because it slips back in whenever I relax. Try again and again and finally get it out.

The greenish part immediately looks better. I think it'll heal on its own now.

I try to put the black thing in a plastic yogurt container to take to the clinic for identification. But it promptly breaks up into small bits. Just a little olive-colored grit, now. At last I just wash the rubble down the sink. It's over.

Whatever "it" was.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Cyst? Today I read Konrad Lorenz on raising baby starlings. For a few weeks, they can't shit on their own. Their shit is in neat little membrane-wrapped packets, that must be pulled out with parent's bill--or tweezers. Ugh.
• Worm? One jackdaw decided Lorenz was its mate. If Konrad didn't open his mouth and eat the worms Jack brought, Jack shoved worms in his ears!
• Leech? I stayed in all evening, waiting for a girl I like to call as promised, draining my energy for her sake... my helpless crush... my long history of helpless crushes... that's the black leech!
• Or is it? Thumb = ability to grasp things and people, affect them. I'm left-handed so left thumb may mean ability to draw, write: creativity. First I thought the damage was sexual, now social empowerment or creativity.
• Next it seems like the damage is to my animal self--I'm a big cat! So is it my confidence and pride that's hurt and healing?
• But even this is wrong. I DO have a healthy thumb, it's NOT my dewclaw.
• Whatever it is, I succeed in removing it at last--encouraging.
• Late last night, I left a message for Blue. She didn't call back. I just thought "Then look for others who ARE available." Not taking rejection to heart, as I used to. Wash it down the sink and move on!

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