Tag: Health

I’m woefully uneducated when it comes to reproductive medicine

There’s been a lot of talk lately about ovarian tissue transplants as treatment for infertility. A woman in Belgium was able to conceive and give birth after having a sample of her own pre-chemotherapy ovarian tissue implanted. Now, a woman has conceived and given birth thanks to the implantation of her twin sister’s ovarian tissue.

Since the tissue was genetically identical in both cases, this doesn’t prove that anyone can be an ovarian tissue donor for anyone else, but it does make you wonder. It also, of course, makes you think about how cloning could be employed to make people fertile.

I am against that, as you can imagine. I find the idea of creating a living clone for the purpose of harvesting its organs disgusting and horribly horribly wrong. (This is why it was so shocking to me that the Jedi Council so readily accepted the clone armies. What, were they like, “Oh, sure, they’re just clones”?!)

In any case, if it happens to become possible for a different person to donate ovarian tissue to me and make me fertile…then would the eggs still be mine, or what? Are my eggs already all produced, and just sitting in there? That was my understanding, for some reason. So would the new tissue cause the ovaries to once again be able to “activate” the eggs, leaving the genetic material inside intact? Or would the new tissue kickstart the generation of new eggs that weren’t mine?

I don’t want to give birth to a child that is half Sean and half some other woman. The whole thought is just ridiculous to me. Pointless. The point of conception and giving birth is to pass down your genetic material. I can love someone else’s child without giving birth to it. I would rather adopt, if I can’t conceive.

But if my ovaries could be repaired somehow, and the child would still be mine…then that would be great.

Tennis was a go!

Paul and I managed maybe half an hour of tennis in the sweltering (and I do mean sweltering) heat. The sweat was literally pouring. It was good, though.

We went swimming afterwards, until Sean came home. Then we all ordered Wife Saver and had it delivered (yay 2go-Box!) and watched Aishiteruze Baby 11. Poor Kokoro-chan…:( Just because she’s a “big girl” doesn’t mean she doesn’t get lonely. Kippei needs to get a clue and tell Yuzu that she has to share.

I smell distinctly of chlorine.

Downloading Sailor Moon 36 right now. Can’t wait! but will have to anyway.

DAY ONE

The alarm went off at 5 am, offering me just enough lucidity to have to go to the bathroom. As I stumbled out of bed and hit the snooze button, I thought dreamily about how I would crawl back into bed, and how maybe I should set the alarm ahead to 6 so my sleep wouldn’t be disturbed.

As I sat on the toilet, however, I realized, Oh yeah, I have to get up and exercise, because I look like a beached whale.

(I realize that isn’t a very nice thing to say about oneself–and I know my friends, and Sean [who said some very nice things about the way I look last night], would disagree, but it was motivational, so I don’t regret it.)

I turned off the alarm completely, gathered up my cell phone, glasses, and wedding rings, and left the bedroom.

Last night, in order to prepare for today, I laid out my work clothes and my workout clothes on the dining room table. This was a very good idea, and I should keep doing that. One of the most time-consuming things in the morning is trying to pick an outfit, and it’s doubly annoying because Sean is asleep and I don’t want to disturb him. Doing it the night before (something that FlyLady suggests) solves both problems.

I pulled on my new yoga pants and a blue shirt, both of which I bought yesterday at Wal-Mart. I grabbed my camera bag and put my cell phone and keys in it, and picked up my 3 pound handweights. Then I hung my kitchen timer around my neck and set it for 45 minutes. Finally I was off, heading out of the apartment for a nice brisk walk around the complex.

I made the circuit twice, moving my arms around with the weights in alternating motions, trying to work as many muscles as I could think of. By the time I was finished with my second lap, my arms were feeling the burn.

Coming around to the final stretch, I went into the workout room at the apartment office, where I managed the stair climber for 5 minutes (yow), and then did some stomach crunches and leg lifts. To finish off my workout, I hopped on the treadmill and did some very fast walking.

I may actually have time to hop in the swimming pool after my workouts, which might be something I want to try sometime. This morning, though, I hurried back to the apartment, made Sean’s lunch, emptied the dishwasher, took my shower, and made my Slim Fast for the morning. Now I’m off for work, so I’ll grab my lunch Slim Fast from the fridge, leave Sean’s lunch in the bedroom where he can see it, and head off.

I’m feeling a little sore, especially in my upper back (I think from all the handweight stuff I was doing), but I also feel fairly energetic. I’m going to keep this up!

Aftermath

Yesterday, Mari, Kelly, Chris and I kidnapped Brooke and took her to Atlanta for her birthday. We ate dinner and played all sorts of games at Dave & Buster’s. It was pretty fun, although I’m not sure the expense (meal + game card + gas) would make it worthwhile to go again anytime soon.

While we were sitting at the table for dinner, our waitress took a picture of all of us together. I didn’t look at it until after I got home, when I uploaded pictures to Box of Bunnies.

It was sort of a wake-up call to me. I already knew my weight, from the gynecologist visit, but I had never quite realized what all that weight was doing to my figure. In the mirror, I only see my torso, which is an okay shape from the front (and I can just ignore the side view). This picture, though, was a side view of me sitting down. It is so horrible that I’m not going to show anyone, but think about how Jabba looked in Jedi and you’ll have a pretty good idea ;P It’s like I’m a lump of pudding, or a shapeless pile of lard. It’s disgusting. I couldn’t even believe it was me at first. Then I was so upset and frustrated that I resolved to keep the picture and look at it often so I would never forget just how far I’ve let my body go to hell.

Obviously, something needs to be done. I really don’t have the time to start a diet, mess up, overeat, and start the cycle again. I’m at the point where I need to stick to a lifestyle change. I want to be able to have a child, and while it looks like I have a chance, I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot by being too unhealthy to carry it. I also don’t want to be the kind of mother who is “too tired” to play with her kids. The time to get myself active and healthy is now.

I’m always scared when I commit to doing something positive for myself, because I’ve never really succeeded before. I’m always afraid I’ll let myself down. But that picture–ugh! I’m horrified even thinking about what I look like now. And I’m doing good; I’ve been biking and bellydancing (although this past week I haven’t done either :/). I need to keep up the exercise, add a little more, add some weight training, and start eating better.

Since I got the job, I haven’t been cooking dinner as much as I used to. I’ve also been eating out for breakfast and lunch quite a bit. This has done horrible things for my health as well as our bank account. Stopping this behavior will really help. I have been successful in cutting caffeine out of my diet–no more Mountain Dew for me!–so I believe I can do this. I just need to keep up my willpower. I stopped caffeine because of the horrible headaches I was getting. Surely back pain, sore feet, dwindling funds and an expanding waistline are good enough reasons to alter my eating habits.

For now, I’ve bought a bunch of Slim Fast shakes and shake mix. I’m going to try doing two shakes and a meal for my daily food intake. We’ll see how that works out.

I’m going to keep going biking with my friends as much as possible, and bellydancing too, but I can’t just rely on that anymore. I have to add more activity, especially during the weeks (like last week) that we don’t meet due to the weather. My apartment complex has a workout room that I can go to in the mornings and after work, and there’s a swimming pool too. I’m also thinking I’d like to buy some roller skates and take some passes around the complex every day, since that would be more fun than walking.

The hardest thing will be scheduling all this activity and also scheduling making Sean’s lunch for him and making dinners for both of us. I’m accustomed to a lot of idle time–in the past I spent it online, and more recently I’ve been spending it with my nose in a book. But that time is going to shrink, at least a little.

It’s worth it, though; I have to do this. I may even take the scariest step of all…and finally buy myself a scale.

Giving up

I’m at a dangerous point right now, where I want to give up and run away from many things. Primarily I want to quit my job, but yesterday I started feeling discouraged about exercise as well. I don’t want how I’m currently feeling to screw me up, but right now it’s so easy to just want to stop worrying about working or exercising and just lose myself in books and anime.

Yesterday, between Harry Potter movies, Mari, Brooke and I went bike-riding. The two of them have been riding much longer than I have, and they both ride more frequently than I do. They also do other exercise, like walking or going to the gym. I am way behind both of them in terms of fitness.

I was successful in not letting this get to me until yesterday, when we rode down a different way on the bike trail. There was hardly any coasting to be had; it was all pedaling, and by the time we got back to the regular stretch my legs literally would not move. It was like the muscles didn’t want to function. I could walk fine, and I wasn’t particularly out of breath, so this was extraordinarily annoying to me. I felt like the Supreme Wuss of Wussonia.

So they went on, and I headed back towards the apartment, just wanting to die.

When they finally got back, they were panting heavily and glowing and smiling. As they talked about what a pain their ride had been, I was so jealous. I wanted to be pushing myself to the limit, going further. I wanted to be able to ride my bike really fast over 7+ miles, and then grin and complain about it. Already I was feeling those old familiar feelings…I should have been able to do that. I just quit because I’m a baby. I’m so lazy and stupid.

“Someday I’ll catch up to you guys,” I said, trying to bolster my spirits, but it really didn’t work. I’m back at that point yet again where I realize I’m not the best at something and that it will take a lot of work to catch up. This is the point at which I usually stop trying…at which I give in to my self-brainwashing. Too fat/stupid/ugly/lazy/untalented/boring to do what I feel like I want to be or should be doing.

It seems like I keep being faced with these huge challenges, and my emotions are warring with themselves over every one of them. Do I stand and fight for the first time in my life? Or do I continue to run?

How many times have I had this conversation with myself?

Never cut and dry

I was told today that I have “some” ovary damage, and that in order to conceive I will need to see an endocrinologist.

This is good news because it means there is still hope. But I had been preparing myself for a more definitive answer.

You’d think I’d be used to being strung along by now.

Bloodwork will hopefully be back by Friday

Breast exam and vaginal exam checked out fine. Pap smear results will be available in three weeks.

The blood test is the important part. It will (presumably) tell us why I was bleeding. The doctor gave us these possibilities:

  1. My ovaries are working again, which would mean that I can conceive.
  2. I am menopausal; the bleeding would therefore be simply a buildup of uteran lining that finally broke loose.
  3. I was bleeding for another reason, which would be more sinister than the first two. This is, fortunately, the most unlikely scenario.

If I am menopausal, then there are two things that I must watch out for:

  1. I will need an ultrasound to determine whether or not my uteran wall is too thick. If it is, there will need to be a biopsy, and I will need to take progesterone to keep the lining from building up.
  2. I will need to have my bones checked to ensure that I don’t have osteoporosis, and if I do I will need to take medication.

After the appointment, I got my hair chopped off to just beneath shoulder level, and donated the long remaining portion to Locks of Love.

Life: a thing you never expect

After my cancer treatments, I couldn’t have periods naturally. I started on hormone shortly after I recovered, and took it for a few months. With the artificial boost, I was able to have periods. Transitioning on and off the hormone gave me horrible mood swings, and I didn’t like having to pay $10 a month or whatever it was to get the pills. So I finally just decided not to take them. I didn’t go back to the GYN who’d prescribed them, either; not because he wasn’t good, but because I thought I knew everything I needed to know already. He’d performed a blood test, twice, that showed that my brain was sending too many signals to my ovaries. This told him that my ovaries weren’t functioning properly–they weren’t responding to the brain by releasing the proper hormones. He said that he’d never seen someone with that result get pregnant.

For the past five years, I’ve been trying to deal with that prognosis. I’ve failed, pretty much; if anything, it’s been even worse lately. Seeing mothers and their children has filled me with such bitter longing that I’ve had to force myself not to cry.

And then, on Sunday night, I started having a period.

It went strong, very strong, just like a normal period. The cramping and moodiness was the same as I remember. It seems as of this morning to have died down…meaning the length was pretty much normal, too.

I don’t know what this means, and for these four and a half days I have struggled to hold back my joy. Everyone except Sean seems to assume upon hearing this that I can have children. Sean is more skeptical; he doesn’t understand why I would suddenly have a period out of the blue…and why it would happen now, after so much time.

He doesn’t want me to get my hopes up. I don’t want me to get my hopes up either. I think it has already happened, though, subconsciously. I think that my natural state of being has been to not give up hope. Somewhere inside, I always felt there was a chance, even as my conscious mind tried to stay logical. It was probably those two dueling sides that kept tearing me apart emotionally.

I’m going to try to stay as neutral as I can until my doctor’s appointment next Wednesday. If we run the same test as I had before, that should tell us something. Either things are the same as they were, or they’ve changed somehow. Maybe there’s another test they can do, too; I don’t know.

Right now I am just a prickly ball of barely-contained emotions.

I don’t want congratulations at this point…you’re free to give them anyway if you wish, but I’d rather not celebrate anything until I know for sure. That, and just letting the whole thing sink in, is why I haven’t written anything about it until now.

More on obesity

I have been thinking more about the “obesity isn’t unhealthy” argument that I linked to in a previous post, and I don’t know…it just seems like bullshit. Maybe the idea that obesity is bad is too far ingrained for me to have an objective opinion…but I don’t know. I tend to think that things that have historical precedent have stronger arguments. We come from a line of hunter-gatherers who ate natural foods. They weren’t necessarily rail-thin or bodybuilders, but they weren’t fat, either, in general.

That was one of the things I wondered about from that article–it said that an overweight person who worked out could be more healthy than a thin person who didn’t. That’s certainly true…but how many overweight people do you know who work out regularly? The ones I know who do have lost and are currently losing weight, so I hardly think they count.

The argument seemed to be that being fat is natural for many people, and therefore there shouldn’t be a stigma. I can agree that overweight people shouldn’t be stigmatized, but I’m not sure that the proliferation of obesity these days is “natural”. Something is causing it; and just because something is caused to happen doesn’t mean that that is the natural order of things. It is one of humanity’s responsibilities as thinking beings to evaluate how we affect the world and how the world affects us, and to try to correct damaging behavior.

Today I got an interesting motivational mailing about fitness and obesity from Leanne Ely, an associate of FlyLady. I think the FlyLady policy is that I can quote the emails in order to spread the word about the system, I just can’t archive emails for people to get elsewhere…so I hope it’s okay that I’m quoting this part:

We do ourselves no favors when we eat stuff that merely puts volume into a space that requires nutrition. I believe one of the reasons obesity levels have hit such highs with children is because they can’t get the nutrition they need–they keep eating because their bodies are screaming for real food! When your body wants and craves nutrition, until it gets it, you’ll want to keep eating. Have you ever noticed how junk food just doesn’t satisfy? That’s why–it’s not real and you need real food to fuel your “engine”–all stuff you can pronounce, not the chemicals, colorings and additives that are so prevalent in junk food.

Ms. Ely is a nutritional therapist, so it’s not like she’s some housewife who just came up with an idea…but it does ring of common sense, doesn’t it?

(I know that sometimes my body screams out for chocolate, but I don’t think that invalidates the theory.)

Right now I’m home for lunch, eating some leftovers. I suppose that’s mildly healthier than going for fast food…although part of this is meatloaf :> After work today I’m going biking with Mari and Kelly (and maybe Brooke; haven’t seen her to ask if she’s coming). I’m really looking forward to it. I haven’t been on a bike since 1997! Time to see if the phrase “it’s just like riding a bicycle” is a viable simile.

Hmm, hope I don’t fall on my face.

Zzzzzz…

I’ve been pretty busy since getting home from Kentucky. Working full-time, regular daylight hours is a new experience for me, and I’m still adjusting. My past jobs have all been part time or shift work: at Wal-Mart (for the whole week and a half I worked there) I was doing a 2 to 11 pm shift; at Willis Music I worked different hours at varying points between 9 am and 6 pm; at GRW I worked 3 pm to midnight (due to going to school); and at the University of Kentucky night desk I worked either midnight to 4 am, 4 am to 8 am, or both. So yeah, I guess from that lineup I appear to be a night owl, and this new 8 am to 5 pm (soon to be 7 am to 4 pm) shift has me a little wonked. I’ve basically had to start going to bed at around 10 or 11 pm in order to get enough sleep, which precludes participating in many of the online chats I’ve come to love. I’m in bed before most of our AMRN people get online; either they’re out doing something else until the late evening, or they’re on the other side of the world, in which case they’re at work or just waking up when I’m going to bed.

This might be a good thing; sitting around chatting could be considered a waste of time, especially if I’m not accomplishing anything else in tandem. But I have always liked being available to my AMRN players and GMs, and it looks like that won’t be as possible anymore.

Regardless, this week hasn’t been extraordinarily restful. I got home on Monday night after 8 hours of driving, stayed up too late, and then got up early for work the next day. I’ve been trying to get more sleep since then, and it’s worked out all right, but I’ve had chores and errands to do after work that have made me feel as if I don’t have time to do anything. Normally I would catch up on the weekend, but I’m driving to Savannah on Saturday to see my aunt and cousin, so I have to get everything done before then, including get all the junk I brought home from Kentucky out of my car, and two loads of laundry. I guess those will be my chores for today after work, since I don’t have any other time to do them.

Yesterday I listened to a motivational CD by Earl Nightengale. It was fairly inspiring, but I’ve been left sort of befuddled. The main point was that people should pick goals and then work towards them in order to be successful. That has been a real problem for me in the past, and right now. What is my goal? I have a business idea, which I’ll not describe here lest someone steal it ;>, but I don’t know if that is my goal in life. Then again, I don’t know if the goals have to be permanent…I think maybe after you’ve accomplished one goal, you can come up with another one.

I guess my main problem with doing this sort of thing has been not wanting to give up on certain dreams in favor of other ones…and of course, fear of failure. Once I get past the first one and pick a goal, Nightengale suggests writing my goal down on a card and looking at it whenever I feel discouraged or fearful. I suppose that could work…so I just need to figure out what my goal is.

I was talking with AJ about it, and he suggested that I make a list of all my goals with two columns: REALLY WANT to do, and WOULD LIKE to do. Then, he said, I could prioritize the REALLY list in terms of feasibility. I don’t think Nightengale would approve of that second step; I’m supposed to believe that I can do anything. The first one, though, might be helpful.

I need to leave for work in about fifteen minutes, so I don’t want to start making my lists now. I’d like to give them some time and consideration. Sadly, I already know one of the things that’s going on my REALLY list: “be a mommy”.

My body shape has changed somewhat, so that my stomach seems to be sticking out more than it was before. This isn’t new; it’s been happening to me for months now. When I look at my profile, I tend to feel like I look pregnant. This has caused me to purchase pregnancy tests three times, “just to make sure”. Wednesday was one of those times, and seeing the negative result was depressing. Even though I know it’s impossible, I still have hope…and that hope invariably leads me to despair.

Working for Proactive Genetics doesn’t really help my emotional state. I do all the mailings for the company, and I’m in charge of the affiliate program, so it’s not like I can divorce myself from the idea of having children. It’s in my face on a daily basis. Every day, some lucky person with twins puts in an order for our zygosity test. I can’t even have one, but all these people have two. You can see how this would get disenheartening.

Still, I’m trying to stay positive. Maybe it’s possible. If it’s not, maybe I can adopt. Unfortunately, with all these maybes, it’s sort of hard to make goals! The only thing I know definitively is that Sean doesn’t want children right now. Sometimes I wonder if he ever will.

Maybe. :P

Plans, plus a brief edit

[Edit, because I’m feeling too lazy to make a whole new post: I don’t even know what to say! What is there to believe in anymore, now that this has happened?!]

I don’t feel like going to the store. I imagine no one ever really feels like going to the store, and yet it must be done.

This week I’ve been settling into my new job as “business manager” (O_o) of 2go-Box. I am still very much learning the ropes. However, I must say that I am really enjoying the four-hour workday. I still have my free early afternoon hours to spend as I please, yet I am required to get up and move in the morning. It’s a winning combination! The only thing I’m unhappy about is my lack of time in the morning to go for a walk/exercise. I can’t set my alarm for 6 am because that would disturb Sean’s sleep. It’s best for me to get up when he does, at 7. Unfortunately, this means a mad rush, since I not only have to get up and take a shower and get dressed, but also tidy up, empty the dishwasher, make the bed, make breakfast, and make lunches if I didn’t do so the night before. There is no time–literally–for exercising. I’m thinking I might have to add it in after my work shift, but I’m not sure. We’ll see.

I am going to have to revise my daily routine, regardless. Some of the morning things are unnecessary (such as “hit the hotspots”–I don’t have any piles of stuff to clean up in the morning because I deal with them as they appear, and “start a load of laundry”, which I could technically do, but that would mean I would have to leave the dryer running while I was at work, which is not a good idea). I also need to put “tidy Sean’s bathroom” higher on the list so I don’t keep forgetting to do it.

I will then need an “after work” routine. I may abolish the “late afternoon routine” entirely in favor of this, or try to make both. It just depends on what fits best. Of course, my schedule might not stay as it is now, unfortunately :> My boss is anticipating many more hours for me once certain things that I can’t disclose get going with the business. Since it’s a restaurant service, it’s really best for me to work during lunch and dinner…but I really don’t want to do that. I like being home during the times Sean is home, so I can make dinner and spend time with him. I’m going to have to see how that shapes up. The later I get off work, the harder it’s going to be for me to make a good dinner every night :/

Anyway, today is Errand Day, and I really need to get over to Wal-Mart to grab our supplies for this week. I also need to stop in at Advance Auto Parts and replace some fuses in my aged Subaru. I better get on that before the after-work rush.

(Oh, and by the way, new color scheme on the LJ. I was trying to match this site, but it ended up looking even better. I need a new site design…)

It’s a marathon…

I’m about done with my

  • Slim-Fast

and I’m not really sure what I want to talk about. I guess another ramble is in order.

Paul just had his birthday the other day. Today we’re going over to his parents’ house for a little party. This means I don’t have to cook dinner. Whee!

…

I finished my Slim-Fast like half an hour ago and I’ve had this window open for longer than that, and I can’t think of anything to write. Instead, I’ve been reading stuff. I came across this interesting article during my bored procrastinations. Basically this is a group that will train you to run a marathon and then send you to where the marathon takes place–they cover virtually all costs as long as you have found enough pledges to meet their requirements. All the pledged money goes towards cancer research: specifically, leukemia and lymphoma. And you get to travel and get in shape. It sounds like a win-win-win situation to me :) I’m going to start seriously thinking about doing it.

I have never been fit enough to run a marathon. It would be really cool to be able to run. Even when I was in kung fu, the time during which I was in the best shape of my life, I couldn’t run even a mile. There’s just something about running. I could stand (or jump) around for two hours throwing kicks and punches, but sustained running always left me winded and nauseated with a horrible stitch in my side. Imagine being able to run a 26 mile marathon and not feel that way!

"The Plan"; plus, what is friendship?

There are two problems in my life that I think about often. The first is that I overeat. The second is that I don’t write enough. Not anything serious, anyway–the AMRN isn’t going to bring me revenue anytime soon. As I was in the shower just now, thinking about these problems, an idea occurred to me that is uniquely suited to my particular situation.

I have decided that from now on, whenever I eat anything, I will post to this blog. I will include in my post what I ate, and I will also write some anecdote or train of thought. I figure this is as brilliant a solution as I have ever come up with. I imagine that most days I will be too embarrassed to admit eating four scoops of ice cream and a Klondike bar and two hotdogs…knowing that I will have to post what I’m eating for all the world to see will be a great deterrent. Plus, since I’m weak and will probably end up eating regularly–and three times a day at least anyway–this ensures that I will post more frequently to my blog, which will help me get the creative juices flowing. God, what a horrible, cliched metaphor. If I wrote more often, maybe I wouldn’t keep using them :>

So, that’s the plan. We’ll see how it holds up!

///

Today, I got up at around 2 pm. So far I have consumed:

  • One glass of sugarless raspberry juice (from a mix)
  • One bowl (probably a cup and a half) of Crunch Berries cereal with probably a cup and a half of whole milk

Not too bad a start for the day, but we’ll see how things go. With the way I snack, I may be posting here a zillion times a day…

///

And now, for the required writing.

I was thinking in the shower about the phrase “squeaky clean”. I learned that being squeaky clean is actually bad from a water tester who went over to J and R’s old house while I was visiting them. He claimed that if you or your dishes or whatever else squeaked after being cleaned, then the soap wasn’t all gone, and that the water therefore needed treatment. This was interesting to hear, but as I’ve never had the experience of not getting all the soap off, it wasn’t vitally necessary to my life.

What did interest me at the time, and still does to this day, was the fact that J invited me over knowing that a guy was coming to do a sales pitch. This seems extraordinarily odd to me. When J invited me over she said something like “We have a guy coming over to talk about our water, but it shouldn’t take long,” or something to that effect. I shrugged and went over there, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. But during the presentation I really felt like I didn’t belong; it was something more for the household, not me. It made me wonder why J  would even think to have someone over during that time…I can’t imagine inviting someone over to watch me talk with the insurance agent, for example.

But J has always been a little strange. I don’t know if she still is, because she lives in Boston and she and I have only communicated through email a handful of times in the last two years or so. But back when we were younger and hanging out together, things were really bizarre…only I was so insecure with my own personality that I didn’t recognize her behavior as odd.

It started the day she asked me to be her best friend. Before that time I simply considered her a good friend; she and K were best friends and had been for years. But apparently she and K had had a falling out, and now J was looking for a replacement. I was ecstatic to be chosen and said yes, thus beginning a friendship that has seen more ups and downs than an elevator. Or something.

One time J came over to my house for a swimming party and immediately asked if she could shave her legs, since she hadn’t done so at home. We let her, but my mother still mentions that and how weird it was. I told J about it some years later and she said she had never done it.

Another time we were having some guys install a new sliding glass door on our deck, and J immediately began talking to them and buddying up with them instead of doing what she was there to do, which was hang out with me. This made me feel weird for two reasons. First, I felt that I was being ignored. Second, I had this impression that you aren’t supposed to engage workers in conversation while they’re on the job. They weren’t there as guests…they were there to install a door. We didn’t know them; there was no reason to form a friendship. I wonder sometimes if this impression is classist or rude, but really, if you’re paying someone by the hour, it’s against your best interest to waste their work time with chatter. I believe J later denied having done this as well.

Then there was the time we took J to the Bluegrass Fair. This was something fun that we did every year as kids; it was a way for us to get out of the house and enjoy something special. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but Mom made sure to see to it that our lives were enriched in as many ways as she could. This was simply one of the fun things she did with us. I was old enough to realize that going to the fair was a special family experience, and I was excited to share that experience with my “best friend”. But once we were inside, J wanted to ride a big roller coaster-type thing that spun in a big circle, and I was too afraid to go on it. She went alone, and befriended the girl she ended up sitting next to. When the two of them got off the ride, J told me that she and the girl were going to go ride some more rides together. So in essence, she dumped me, the person who had brought her, in favor of someone who was more fun.

I guess in some ways I am a stick in the mud, but I don’t know…if you truly consider someone your best friend, do you treat them like that?

Weird stuff like that continued through high school. After we graduated, I went to the University of Alabama in Huntsville, and J went to the University of Louisville. There, she met R, an electrical engineering masters candidate from Pakistan. The two of them were married in January of 1997, mere months after they met.

J did not tell me she was getting married nor ask me to come to her wedding. She explained later that she was afraid all her friends would try to talk her out of it, so she didn’t tell anyone but her immediate family. I told her I understood, but I really didn’t. A true friend would be supportive…and if she really believed she was doing the right thing, no one should be able to just talk her out of it, anyway. This perturbed me, but I tried to get my head around it.

After my first year at UAH, I dropped out. Mechanical engineering was simply not for me. I piddled about at a sucky job for awhile, and then I got cancer. While I was in the hospital, J and R drove down from Louisville to visit me.

I had met R previously. Chris, my boyfriend at the time, and I had gone back to Kentucky during one of the school breaks, and one day we drove up to Louisville to see J and R. I had decided that while R was awkward in some ways, I liked him. J really liked Chris–the guy was into drama and performed loudly in the middle of the park, much to her delight. I, on the other hand, was horribly embarrassed. I wasn’t impressed by his acting and I wanted him to stop making a scene. This should have been a clue to me, I think…but oh well.

In any case, their visit to me in the hospital was short, but much appreciated. It was a wonderful thing for them to do. It was the middle of the school year, after all, and they had to work hard. R was about to get his masters, and J was still working on her degree as well. This is a good memory that I have of J.

After I got well, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky. R had his degree and had gotten a job in Harrodsburg; they bought a house in Nicholasville and J enrolled at UK too. I thought this was great because we were finally close to each other again. I spent a lot of time at their place, studying or watching Indian movies with them or eating dinner or whatever.

J always seemed to make friends with people easily. Looking back on it, though, I’m not sure that “friends” is the proper word. I’m not sure what is though. Her next door neighbor at the house in Nicholasville was a young lesbian who had a troublesome home life. She came over and hung out with us a fair amount, and she and J got along great, but I just felt weird around her. Part of it, I’m sure, was my own fledgling feelings of same-sex attraction…I had actually been attracted to J herself since our sophomore year of high school. But I don’t think that was all. I think the girl just struck me as off, as someone I did not want to be around. My mom has that sort of intuition too, and it has served her well, so I don’t try to ignore those feelings. The main point of all this is that J had no problems befriending practically anyone; she would go into their houses immediately, invite them over to mingle with other friends, and basically let people into her life indiscriminately. Sometimes she would complain to me about people she was friends with who were doing mean things or things she didn’t approve of. This caused me to wonder why exactly she remained friends with them.

At around this time, my relationship with Sean was developing. Sean was–and still is–a very opinionated man, and he sees no reason for people to waste their time on those who are hurtful or uninteresting or anything else that precludes a good time. He actually told me that J was no good for me, that she was using me as an emotional crutch and that I meant nothing to her. I refused to believe him, but the core of his philosophy began to take a deep root in me. Why, after all, should a person feel they have to befriend everyone? You can love everyone in the world without having to put up with their shit every day. I think this branching of opinions was what heralded the beginning of the end of my friendship with J.

One day while she was rushing down the hallway in her home, J brushed up against the corner of her hallway wall and fell, twisting her foot and then sitting on it. This broke her leg down near the ankle and she was bedridden for a week or two, then on crutches. She did her classes correspondence then, I believe, and was essentially unable to go around and enjoy herself. During that time, I only visited her once. While I was there, her mother was also there, and something happened that made me feel really weird. J was whining about how much pain she was in and how horrible her situation was, and she told her mother something like “Well, I wish someone would clean that bathroom.” That wasn’t exactly what she said, but whatever it was, it was an obvious guilt trip. “I’m bedridden and I can’t do anything…why won’t people help me?”

Her mother went and immediately started cleaning. I was thoroughly disgusted by the entire affair. Yes, people can do nice things for people who are sick or injured…but being sick or injured doesn’t give a person the right to make demands like that. I thought back to how I was in the hospital: I tried not to make my visitors feel unwelcome or like they had to do anything for me. It wasn’t their fault I had cancer, and it was good of them to visit at all. I felt that treating them with respect was only polite. Because of the obvious clash in our outlooks on how sick or injured people are to comport themselves, I never went back.

Weeks, maybe months later, J and I got into an argument. I could check my AIM logs to see what it was about–yes, it occurred on AIM; isn’t that ridiculous?–but I don’t really want to. Suffice it to say that she brought up the bit about my not visiting her more than once when her leg was broken. I told her how disagreeable she was being and why that made me not want to come, and she said that that shouldn’t matter, that a true friend would have come anyway, and that she, after all, had visited me all the way from Louisville when I was in the hospital. I replied that a broken leg was hardly the same thing as cancer…to which she spat at me that I was always bringing that up and making myself out to be a victim, and that I had no right to do so.

Our conversation ended with J telling me she hoped I rotted in hell because I was a horrible sinner and a horrible person, and then she told me that it was probably good that this happened because she and R were moving to Boston the following week. She was moving, and she hadn’t even said a word of it to me until that very minute.

I haven’t seen her since, and as I mentioned above, we have only emailed one another a few times. Once she wrote to me to say she hoped I had given up my sinful ways, and that she was sorry for wishing those horrible things on me. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so I wrote back to congratulate her on her new baby, M, who I had learned of through J’s sister L. J replied with questions about my own life, questions that I didn’t want to answer because I had not given up my “sinful ways”, the things she had listed in the first email, and I didn’t want to be lectured about it.

I didn’t answer her message for an entire year.

Then one day I noticed it still sitting in my Inbox, where I leave messages that I’ve yet to reply to, and I decided what the hell. I told her how I was engaged to Sean and how we would be married after I graduated, and I told her how AJ and Faye and Ben and my parents were doing, and I talked about some mutual friends of ours. She wrote back later and was friendly, so I wrote back in a friendly way too. Our correspondence has not been deep or meaningful, but at least it has been…amicable.

Since then J has had another baby. She and R are still living in Boston, as far as I know. J stated in her last message that she has carpal tunnel syndrome, so she can’t write any more letters. I have no idea if this is true or not. Maybe she just wanted to escape the distant familiarity of our exchange. I can’t blame her if that’s the case.

I wish we really had been best friends, but I don’t think we ever were. It’s a relationship I look back on with a great deal of regret. I wish I could think of something I could have done differently, but in the end I believe that we simply weren’t suited to have that level of a relationship. If we’d realized it sooner, we might have saved ourselves years of feelings of betrayal. But I guess people get comfortable and don’t want to change the status quo, even if they’re unhappy with it.

I hope J has a happy life, and that she finds herself a true friend.