Social Media seems madder than a dragon trying to blow out his birthday candles.
You get it? Because he breathes fire? So the candles never go out? The only thing that would make that dragon more mad was if that cake was an ice cream cake.
I love ice cream cake.
I should take a break from social media because I’m that friend that takes everything one…little….step further and ends up poking that dragon.
I find it endearing. I also find it miraculous that I still have my friend on social media. You’re good people.
I marched yesterday. I don’t need to. We don’t have living children. We both have good jobs. We have insurance. The market is on the up and up. I can just put my head down and plow through the next four years.
But sometimes in this life, I feel amazingly vulnerable and I can’t imagine how those who live their lives constantly in this state must feel right now.
I had to find an new OB-GYN this month. I hate going to the lady doctor so I have not gone to the lady doctor for five years. I hit 46 this month and decided it was time. Filling out the paperwork made me hyperventilate a little.
How many times have you been pregnant?
List the dates of those pregnancies
How many living children?
Ugh. I drove to the office, paperwork in hand and thought about how vulnerable I felt; on the fringe of society with two babies who are not with us. I dreaded sad looks, telling my history while wearing a gown that ties in the front.
I walked into a quiet office with a poster of the seven dwarfs of menopause.
In case you are wondering, they are Itchy, Bitchy, Sweaty, Bloated, Sleepy, Forgetful and Psycho. I met with an empathetic doctor who listened to my history, ordered a new IUD, blood work and gave me a hug.
You now have to wait five weeks for an IUD. Insurance processes the request, calls you to make sure you’re legit and sends you your very own. Apparently, my IUD is a coveted apparatus.
“Does it come monogrammed with my name?” I asked the doc.
“You should ask Cigna. I’m sure they would monogram it” She said.
I handed over my insurance card. I wanted to kiss it. For many, this visit is not as smooth, nor does their IUD come monogrammed.
This week I also had a mammogram because you know, 46. I drove to Rocky Mtn Medical. Samantha was their very first air lift ten years ago. I blew the helipad a kiss.
“All of our mammograms are now 3d. Your insurance doesn’t always cover this. Call us if you get a bill and we will take care of it.” The woman who checked me in said.
And once again, as the tech contorted the girls, I felt grateful…..
Okay, felt is not the operative word. I FELT really uncomfortable. I WAS, however grateful.
Four weeks ago I went down to the Denver Rescue Mission to deliver coats, socks and money that my company raised during our Turkey Trot.
I had a bucketful of socks and $456. The weekend before had been bitter cold and the man receiving donations had tears in his eyes.
“$456 wow, we weren’t planning on this. Ma’am, thank you so much. This will help so much. It’s been cold, and it’s the holidays and people are just so sad. Thank you.”
He took my hand and held it tightly.
“God Bless.” He said.
And I cried.
And so I walked yesterday. Because why should I be so lucky? To have my healthcare, to have a roof, and access to good food? To be loved and supported by my family, friends and community? The very least I can do is to insure that others can have socks and an uncomfortable 3D mammogram as well.