A Little Story

Donna at Funky Junk Interiors really got me thinking with her Week of Change series. Particularly the last post “Offer”. What do you have to offer this year?

After I read Donna’s post I thought- well, I offer painting tutorials. But a little voice got louder and louder in my head. It practically had to shout over all the other voices. (sshhh, don’t mention that to anyone, ok?)

 You have more to offer.

I do? What?

Sheesh – more soul searching. As if Top Posts of 2012 and Resolutions weren’t enough, now I gotta dig deeper?

Ok, so being a child of the 60’s and a teenager in the 70’s, introspection is a regular thing to me. Then it hit me. I had mentioned I would expose relate a little more about me and my life here. More than painting, that is. So I just started writing. And writing. And writing. Stories started pouring out of me.

Like this one –

When she was a little girl she dreamed of having a boatload of babies when she grew up. She was the youngest of five, two biological brothers and two stepsisters. Although they were raised as one family and she never called her sisters, or her father, ‘step’.

She married early, at age 18. Many people thought because she was marrying at such an early age she must be pregnant. But she wasn’t. She just wanted to get pregnant.

They had many friends, most of them married, and it seemed as though at least one of their friends was always pregnant. She eagerly waited for the time when she’d get to make her announcement too. But month after month, Mother Nature would ‘visit’ and her soon-to-be good news went untold. She was young though. There was no need to be concerned.

At age 21, three years into her marriage and three years without getting pregnant, she started having back pain. Severe back pain. Working as a temporary secretary for Hewlett Packard, she had no medical insurance so she tried to just endure the pain. After her temporary stint was up she took a job with health benefits that kicked in after 90 days.

Almost to the day of being covered by insurance, she was jolted awake one early morning by a sharp, searing pain in her lower abdomen. Since it wasn’t her back she thought this new pain was unrelated. She couldn’t get out of bed. She couldn’t walk. Her husband’s mother, a retired R.N., came over to take a look. After some gentle palpations, the mother-in-law told her she needed to see a gynecologist. Soon.

She only knew of one gynecologist, the one her BFF saw to get pregnant – Stuart Bargman, M.D., Infertility Specialist. Upon calling the office Dr. Bargman’s receptionist told her there were no appointments for three weeks. She laid back down and curled up into the fetal position.

Her husband went downstairs and, unbeknownst to her, called the office and said, “Hey, my wife can’t walk! She can’t even get out of bed!” To which the gal said, “Get her in here now!”

After a quick, excruciating exam, and a lengthy conversation, Dr. Bargman sent her to the hospital for an ultrasound. Her hopes of being pregnant were dashed (she looked nearly 5 month from her now-protruding tummy). But her disappointment quickly turned to fear when Dr. B began discussing dermoid ‘tumors’.

Tumors? As in Cancer?

As if you hadn’t guessed, the 21 year old in the story is me. Little did I know at the time, that year was life-changing for oh-so many reasons. You can read Part Two here.
{If you’re a stepmother, or mother, you might find it an interesting read.}

Nothing earth-shattering. Just stories. Some happy. Some sad. Just like Life. And posted just once in a while here, as the mood strikes. Seeings how I’m 54 and almost a Senior (I get Denny’s senior meals in November!), some of my stories might strike a chord within you.

Meanwhile, I’ll still be painting up a storm, organizing when I can, and visiting you if you leave me a comment *hint, hint*.

Colleen

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