Today has gone a lot better than it could have, considering. For me, at least. Probably not for the Twisted Orange Intestine. Don't you know he's shitting orange bricks on his golden toilet? And look- I'm not about to jinx anything here. I know it's not over until it's over but we can definitely say that the breeze does appear to be blowing with a lovely pale blue light.
Dear GOD I wish it wasn't so close, though.
So I went and got my mammogram. Except for one year when I was crazy sick with anxiety disorder, I've never really worried about my bosoms. They've always performed royally for me, doing what they were made for, which was to make and deliver milk to my babies. There was a moment in my childhood when my mother looked at my not-even-budding breasts and said vaguely, "I think you're going to have inverted nipples like Mother." "Mother" being her mother.
I had no idea what inverted nipples were. I may or may not have even known what "inverted" meant. And Mother did not explain and of course I'd never seen Granny's naked, uh, chest. I can't even use the word when it comes to my darling little Grandmother's...chestular area. Like a bird's breast, really. But I did worry about the possibility of having INVERTED nipples for a long time after that.
Turns out that my nipples are quite extraverted, thank you very much, although I'm sure I would have been fine if they hadn't been.
So I wasn't worried today and I'm pretty sure that all is well. They asked me if I wanted to get the 3-D mammogram and since my insurance paid for it, I said, "Sure." My tech lady called me back and directed me to the room where my bosoms were to be smashed and photographed and within seconds we felt extremely comfortable with each other. And this was before I bared myself to her. She asked, because she has to, whether or not I'd ever had implants and I laughed and before we knew it, we were discussing breast enhancements and she told me that a lot of women, strangely, seem to be getting theirs removed these days. She also told me about one of her patients whose FATHER HAD MADE HER GET IMPLANTS AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN!
"That's sick!" I said.
"I know!" she said. She told me that the girl, now a woman, also thought it was sick. The poor thing. And we both agreed that the surgeon who'd done the job was evil too.
And then she asked me if I was Glen Moon's wife and I said that I was and she'd talked to him about buying a car once and that he was such a sweetheart and I agreed with that, too, and it turns out that she knows and is neighbors with two of my friends who are dear to my heart and so, in a way, we were family and I didn't feel shy at all when she arranged my breasts on the plates and told me when to breathe and when not to breathe and when to move and when not to move and it was soon all done. She looked at her images and said, "These are beautiful pictures!" Whether she was speaking as a photographer or a diagnostician, I do not know but I told her "Good job!" and felt relieved. "Very symmetrical," she said. That, I feel quite certain, is a good thing.
So then I got dressed and left and went to Publix and Costco for my shopping and I swear, things just feel lighter right now, as if that pale blue breeze is refreshing us all, lifting us up from our four-year place of horrid, heavy orange depression and fear.
Oh please, oh please, oh please.
My kids and I have been texting each other all day saying, "Why is this taking so long?" I feel like we've probably all shot our adrenals by now, leaving us exhausted and weary and slow and unfocused. But on my way home, I heard Biden speak for just a few minutes and he was calling for patience and reminding us that every vote must be counted. That this is how our democracy works. (I almost typed "democrazy".) That when all the votes are counted, he feels certain that he and Senator Harris will be declared the winners but again- we have to be patient. We have to be accurate.
I was glad to hear that. To be reminded. To know that he has been through this process so many times and that through time and experience, he has learned patience. He has learned how we must respect the process enough to ensure that it is carried out as it should be.
What a difference he would make!
And what a difference it makes to feel even the slightest ray of hope. And if he is the winner, he is not going to magically be able to heal that which has been broken. If there is even a chance for that, it is going to take time and work. And that's not even considering what covid has done and is doing to our country. To our world.
I ran into Rachel in Publix and although it was wonderful to see her, it was also so painful not to be able to gather her into my arms as I always do, to hold her close to me, this girl that I love. The emotional toll this virus has taken on all of us is as heavy and hard as the economic one, if not more so. Of course, the current occupant doesn't even consider this. Did you see the video of him in the Oval Office with a group of nurses and when one of them began speaking about the PTSD, the trauma that healthcare workers are experiencing daily, he interrupted and said, "Let's pass out these pens," and then proceeded to yes, pass out his shitty free pens to all of them.
"Oh boy! My life is a wreck, I haven't been able to kiss my kids for six months, I'm watching people suffer and die right and left, I'm so exhausted I can't think straight, but lookie here! I got a free pen!"
As Pinot said, the man has no heart.
I do not envy Biden if he becomes president but I think he may be able to at least bring some sense and science, some reality and truth to our country. Some decency. Pure and simple decency. Who knew how rare and important that is?
Take your vitamins, y'all. Remember to hydrate. Get enough sleep and some exercise every day. Be patient. Hope for the best.