I've been missing my mommy of late. I always miss her, but lately, I have been longing to talk to her so badly.
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Saturday, July 6, 2024
Mommy
Youth pt. 2
It feels like me and the women in my life turned 39, the universe was alerted, and she sent us an array of crap. The whole thing has me thinking about the meaning of youth.
Youth
When you are young, people will tell you, "Do it while you are young." " Enjoy it while you're young". And the people who really know what they are talking about will tell you, "You are only young once" because that is, truly, the long and short of it. But no one will tell you that you are thinking all wrong, as if your youth has an expiration date. 21 you are young. 41 you are not.
Every now and then someone you view as truly ancient will tell you that you are only as young as you feel. Okay. But you are also only as young as you are, and all of these things have to coexist in you as truth as you move and love and do what you do. I am learning what I find it hard to articulate to others: youth is not something you have but more like a shadow that moves with you. And just like a man that don't want you no more, she will begin to spiritually withdraw until the coast is clear to jump ship completely. And one day you wake up honey and you are you, minus that special something that excused you, that ran your operations system, that set your goal calendar. You are now a new you that you may or may not welcome, and no one, not even women, prepares women for this.
One day, you are expected to just take out your First Aid kit and begin to treat the wounds youth left behind and begin to transition to the mature you, the senior you, that respects money, takes vitamins, and gives a sh%t! And don't be that old person who is haunted by youth traumas like financial stuff and love ailments. Life has time for you like it has time for itself, and you go from a work in progress to a relic that hurts people's eyes. No one wants to see you until there is something to see. And to think, just 20 years ago, you were dancing on a table someplace. You will remember these times until you die with pristine precision, which is both beautiful and cruel. What we are talking about here is the equivalent of catching a firefly in your hands. The bulb is flickering. The end.
Monday, March 4, 2024
The Chase
With all the health stuff I have been dealing with, I have found myself reaching out to my friends for support. And the truth of the matter is, some of them are not interested in being present. It just is what it is. Yet, on the other hand, my church family has been consistent, checking in on me and sending me prayers and well wishes. So, the other night while I sat in the dark groaning, I asked myself why I am chasing friends that aren't interested when there are people proving that they want to be a part of my life? Why is my default always trying to cling to the unavailable? Talk about trauma and damage! These and other questions to be answered as I try to navigate life. Stay tuned.
Hysterectomy/Mysterectomy
Thursday, February 29, 2024
Dr. Hottie and the Biopsy
I'm not going to lie: when I was dropped off early at the hospital for my procedure, I stood on the steps and cried. I was scared, overwhelmed, and alone. I knew that I was going to cry, but I didn't think it would be that early.
"Are you okay?" the security guard asked. I nodded, but he walked over to me anyway. I rolled my eyes. If men aren't ignoring me, they are bothering me when I am trying to have a private moment. I wiped my eyes and followed him inside where a man with a crutch was already waiting. We were the early birds, waiting for 6am to go up to get prepped for our surgeries. I sat there listening to Glorilla, praying that things would go my way. I had never had any type of surgery or anesthesia, and I was mortified of not waking up. My fears were not calmed when I was told I was sent to the wrong area and that I had not paid money I had a receipt for paying. By this time, my mind was all over the place. If one more oopsie was made, I was going to make a run for it!
By the time I was checked into preop, I looked a hot mess! Sadness and worry was graffitied all over my face. I looked tired and upset. Looking in the mirror after giving my urine sample, it dawned on me that I looked the worst that I had ever seen myself! But the party was just beginning. I got changed into the backless gown that no one likes and sat still while a woman rubbed by back and butt down with antiseptic wipes. Then Nurse Heavy Hand rubbed my right arm down so hard with an alcohol cotton ball that she bruised me. How hard to you have to be rubbing me to bruise me with a piece of cotton? She couldn't find my vein. My left arm looked like a pin cushion, only for Nurse Tiny Little to find my vein on the right arm and get me with one prick. Thank. God.
Once my doctor arrived, I was relieved and ready to rock. She came with the resident I had been seeing during my visits, which made me more comfortable. I almost allowed my shoulders to relax a little before a tall, brown brotha with beautiful eyebrows and lashes showed up at the foot of my bed. He was introduced as Dr. Hottie, another resident that would be helping out with the surgery.
Oh no, I thought to myself. I looked like SH&T! Of course I did. When I was in high school and had bad asthma attacks where I couldn't breathe, my respiratory therapists always looked like they had hopped out of an Abercrombie ad. I was beyond embarrassed.
However, the humiliation didn't come until I got into the operating room and needed help getting on the operating table with Dr. Hottie right there. I could have died! My butt cheeks were exposed and ashy. They don't allow you to wear lotion on the day of a surgery! I would have done anything for just a squirt of Nivea.
Once I was in recovery, I looked over at the nurse's station and he was sitting there, working, looking good. I could tell he was fine, even with his face mask on. He even looked like he smelled good. I could feel myself smiling goofily at him and then it dawned on me: THIS FINE MAN HAS SEEN MY VAGINA! If I wasn't completely out of it, I would have screamed!
However, once everything did wear off and I was getting ready to go home, I thanked Dr. Hottie and told him I was sorry if I was acting weird. I just wasn't expecting a man in the surgery. He said it was okay and smiled. I have to tell you, I felt something in that moment. But I cannot be sure if it was a sensual connection or post-surgical vaginal pain. All I know is that next time, if there has to be a next time, I am sneaking a travel container of lotion into preop in my bra.
Skeez Louise pt 2: Chocolate Chuck and the Hypothetical D Pic
You may or may not know this about me, but I LOVE a good mystery; a good who done it and why. I like to swish the puzzle pieces of a situation around and study them until they all fit and make sense. I gobble up mystery novels like kitty nip. For me, there is mystery in everything, even in the lives of people I know. Scrolling through Instagram, the mysteries fly through my timeline and slap me in the face. How can a guy from my old neighborhood drive a Tesla, but need to create a GoFundMe fundraiser to bury his dad? How can a very petite girl I knew from my elementary school after school program be shapeless her whole life yet, after a trip to the Dominican Republic, now have a behind the size of Texas? And how can Chocolate Chuck's wife, Nerdy Nadine vanish? She's been scrubbed from his IG, along with any tangible proof that he ever had kids. Even the picks of his international vacations, that he never went on with Nadine, have been trashed, and replaced with promos for his business. Could Purple Reign have been right? Could their union, which once sprang from the springs of love at Xavier University, have decayed and fallen from the vine? And if it has, what is the most appropriate, sensitive, considerate, respectful way to see what that D do?
Let's rewind back to about 2006, back when my sweet, fun, yet loopy and dopey friend Ditzy Diane had engaged in some XXX activities with Chuck. I mean she went on and on about it. Titanic didn't get as many rave reviews as she gave that D! She was literally clapping her hands and laughing as she told me about it. If her goal was to make me jealous, she had achieved it. I remember looking over my shoulder at Chuck and Nadine on the other side of the cafeteria. I thought to myself that if I ever got skinny and pretty (because I am NOT Chuck's type) and if he wasn't with a woman who could crack my neck with her bare hands, I would shoot my shot. And I wouldn't need to go all-the-way like Ditzy Diane. A little peek would do it for me. Okay, so I am in no way skinny, but my spirit is telling me that this may be the best time. He obviously is in some type of a midlife transition, and I am suffering from medical related dehydration.
"Oh yeah, you can get a pic, no problem," Risky Business assured me. I tell you, it is truly dangerous to have a friend that will support you completely, even when you are being crazy. "And it won't be as hard as you think it is." But you see, Risky thinks that we should wait until homecoming when folks are feeling frisky and walk away with a bunch of D picks, not just the one. I'm good with just the one though.
If I am being honest, it wasn't just Diana's review that has me curious. I slipped up and saw him shirtless on another friend's InstaLive which is what I think really kicked things in gear a couple of years ago. And now that I have been OnlyFans tricked and am scared of my test results, this desire to see D has taken over me! It's embarrassing and ridiculous...but nice work if I can get it.
My anxiety can sometimes cause me to act impulsively and stupidly, so I am going to sit on this deep, jaw-flexing desire until I know what move to make. Plus, can't be all hoochy like in this. Where would the mystery be in that?