THAT DAY

My friend Cory talks with me about thyroxine, which we both take. Below 60 mcg, I get hypothyroid symptoms; I feel best at 80-100. But in the last year, Kaiser Clinic upped my dosage sharply, from 100 to 137 mcg, and for the first time in my life I have hyperthyroid symptoms: sleep shrank from 7-8 hours to 3-4, plus night sweats, hot flashes, tachycardia, and weird bursts of temper (like an athlete abusing steroids). Two weeks ago I saw their specialist; she dismissed my symptoms as "subjective". So I went home and cut up my pills, reducing my dosage back to 80-90. At that level, I'm recovering. Subjective my ass!

Cory says "That woman's reckless and in denial. Get another doctor." But it's a system. My regular doctor caused the problem, and the specialist backed her up with Kaiser's one-size-fits-all dogma.

THAT NIGHT...

I visit an art class where two of my Foam Furs are on display--lifesize, flexible, posable sculptures. They show two sisters--Celestia and Luna from the TV show My Little Pony, representing day and night, waking and dream. But on the show they're alicorns, winged unicorns. What I've built are delicate but wingless centaur versions of the sisters, with furred upper torsos, small breasts, arms and hands.

A photographer tries to find angles and exposures that'll catch the colors and features of both. Has trouble--either sun-bleached Tia washes out, or midnight-indigo Luna goes flat black (In my sketch, I flattened the contrast a lot to make both visible: Tia a mere palomino, and Luna slate-blue).

Now I have to pose nude with Celestia and Luna on a low stage, for the students to draw. No big deal--I've modeled nude in art classes recently. I go over to a corner to stash my clothes, and strip. Don't have a robe.

Suddenly I feel uneasy standing there naked, and look more closely at the students. It isn't the college artclass I expected, or even high school--it's elementary or middle school! No students over twelve, and a few look as young as seven or eight.

Strangely, they don't look shocked--just me! Like they're used to nude models. Not their first one, I guess?

Strange kids. Some seem to be My Little Pony fans--they're ponied up! Ears and tails and hooves... even a few spiral horns. Unicorns.

Wait... those tails swish, those ears swivel! Are they real?

I may be the only furless, tailless creature in the room. Nuder than I realized...

Behind me, a thump. Uh-oh. While I stripped, the two centaurs fell over. I go lift Tia and Luna back up, adjust their poses, plant their feet firmly. Yes, now they stand. Just need to be balanced.

We pose. Them, clothed in elegant fur, and me, naked. The class sketches busily...

Then the door opens. A big ugly beefy woman with a speargun stomps in, fins on her feet, goggles on her forehead, playing her role as a scuba diver.

Oh--didn't I mention this is all a TV show? My role is to be an intelligent sea-creature. Why a naked human is the right look for that, I don't know--I'm just an actor, not the director.

The script says my people aren't verbal, we use sign or telepathy. But the land people jumped to the conclusion we're deaf and dumb. False: my character can hear, and gets the concept of spoken language--just never tried to make such noises. We improv a scene in which we try to communicate various ways. Awkward. But I guess that's authentic.

Muscle Woman loses patience, and raises her speargun! I turn and duck a bit, just before she fires. TWANG! The spear flies across the room and quivers in the wall behind me. At least not in me, or a sculpture... or a child.

I'm still appalled. I appreciate Method acting, but this is a bit too realistic. She's reckless. That thing could kill...

And I wake.

• Long, weird, meaningful dreams: normal for me--until lately, when I've gotten no more than 3-4 hours sleep a night.
• Centaurs that fall over, must be re-balanced to stand:
  1. Literal! I sewed two life-size centauroids with flexible, posable joints: Silky & Vixtoria. They stand if they're well balanced, but fall if they're not--as humans do.
  2. BUT... they're symbolic too. The Greeks saw centaurs as an uneasy mix of rational and instinctual. As with thyroxine, balance is all.
• My Little Pony's Luna & Celestia: Luna's the moon, night, dreams; Celestia's the sun, day, logic. Thyroxine poisoned both my dreams AND my waking stability.
• Photographer can't get both light & dark values: the endocrinologist only values a test number, while I only value my quality of life! Irreconcilable values.
• Art modeling: familiar. I'm an art major, and my friend Crissy art-models. My nudity may mean baring my medical details with Cory or my doctors.
• Why a class of kids? To heighten the awkwardness about stripping bare, or the shock of the speargun attack, or both?
• Stripping, pointed weapons, and reckless shooting that endangers students: motifs in a short-story anthology I read today.
• Diver & I act as if we're undersea: today I drew a dream of being a transparent mermaid trapped in a tank (hard!)
• Reckless with a deadly weapon: my dreams agree with Cory that Kaiser's policy (only read TSH, ignore symptoms) is reckless. Thyroxine's powerful, and my doctors upped the dose sharply, then ignored danger signs. I thought the opioid disaster made doctors more cautious. Nope!
• ACTION: Switch doctors. And keep cutting my pills to a dose where I'm asymptomatic. Protect myself. They won't. They've made that clear.

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