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. 

As you know, 39 brought me endometrial polyps I had to have plucked out. That was emotional and incredibly stressful for a woman whose anxiety is already so naturally high that I could shoot to the moon on it. A college friend told me that she has already had her mammogram, something that should be set for next year, because our good friend's wife was diagnosed with breast cancer at 39. 

For some of my other girlfriends, the race to have a baby has never been so real, especially for my uncoupled friends that have to weigh waiting for a man with getting a donor. Today, my 39-year-old doctor friend died in hospice care from a disease she wasn't even old enough to get screened for! 

Is the universe trying to tell me and my soon-to-be middle-aged friends to cherish life and your health because you never know what trick life is going to pull out of its hat? Okay! Message received. Now can you please keep all my girls well and alive?

It doesn't work like that. 

When I was a kid, I'd hear my grandma on the phone giving and receiving updates on sick friends and friends who had passed. The whole thing would go over my head, now it's at my feet. For lack of a better word, it's scary. 

Is this to be life from now on? Scared for my wellbeing and that of those I love? I guess this is yet another disgusting part of adulting. My grandma would tell me to pray. I think I will. 

Love In The Time of Corona

I'm sorry that I have been absent. But, much like I assume you have been, I have been obsessed with these Coronavirus outbreak updates honey, and none of them have been good. Schools have gone digital. Countries have quarantined themselves. People have gotten into fist fights over toilet paper in the grocery store. And while watching the news 24/7 could lead one to believe that the world is about to end I could only think of one thing: what if I die of Coronavirus before I find true love? Would that not be tragic?!
Long ago, I read an article in a magazine about a young psychologist who had gotten the opportunity to serve as a woman's counselor for immigrants that had just fled to her country from a refugee camp. She was eager to dig into the issues that she assumed that she was going to be hearing about which were depression, anger, homesickness, mourning, etc. But, after talking to a few ladies, she was surprised. All these downtrodden refugees who had been ripped from their native lands under extreme, horrifying, and even deadly circumstances wanted to talk about were their romantic relationships in the camps. Some of their guys went to other countries. Others were having their heads turned by other women now that they were safe and sound. Isn't it funny that in times of distress we rely on our basic needs: food, water, shelter, and love?
Sunday, my pastor discussed how the Coronavirus is reminding people that they are not going to live forever and they need to get right with the Lord. Sadly, all I could think about was how we are not going to live forever and how I don't want to leave the planet before I meet the guy of my dreams. I don't care if he's old, ugly, deformed, or missing a leg or something. He can borrow one of mine! But I would at least like to spend a day with him, even if we are just holding hands from our hospital beds in the Corona quarantine facility.
Maybe, as always, my priorities are a smidge off. It's just funny how love is always a top priority, even when it should be avoiding a lung distressing killer virus.