The trouble with your own fingertips is that they are so sensitive and, as long as you are getting sensation from them, your brain will make up for the fact that you’re not getting sensation from whatever skin you’re touching. And, frankly, maybe I’ve been nervous about paying too close attention.
But I stood in the kitchen early this morning, before the Butcher woke up, and took a fork to my boob. Gently, of course. And the feeling is gone in that area. So, imagine my thumb. The scar on my boob is about as long as from the tip of my thumb to that joint right where the thumb meets webbing. And from the midpoint of that scar, though more above it than below, is a circle about twice that area, of nothing. No feeling. Poke, poke, poke, No way to tell.
I wonder if it will ever come back, the feeling. Or if I’m just going to have a scar and a dead spot.
It’s weird. The scar doesn’t bug me. It’ll fade. The little divot is weird, but it both seems like it might fill out and, if not, well, boobs sag and get strange looking.
But this feels like something missing. Like I have been irrevocably through something, like I can’t go back to the way things used to be.