hello friends,thanks for stopping by as always. and don't be alarmed. i am okay. this was written a few months ago after i got some unanticipated test results. i repeat i am okay. but this piece captured the moments of the betrayal of this body.
Unmasked. The unmasked stood before me. I didn't know this. I didn't recognize this. But the unmasked it stood before me. I knew. I knew. I knew. That it wouldn't be good news. I didn't recognize this unmasked barrier of bad news for it was a different kind. But I knew the look. The look of the grayness of the eyes never making eye contact that mattered, the facial figures blending in together, the non-descriptiveness of it all. And inside of me. The remembering of a late night phone call of the worst news. The across country call of coming home because of sickness and fear of death. Starting to pulse in and out of my frame of this body. I knew this unmasked figure. I knew it or he or she was bringing me news. Not the best news as the platter what exposed for me to see.
And I have now crossed over into a place where the healthiness of this body I can't exactly control. And truth be told we never could. We thought we could. It was before the worry of tests. And test results. And genetics. And my ability to make babies. Once I wanted to.
This body, this athletic body, has not failed me once. I didn't always win the race. But it always carried me. But these feet with a high arch and toughness from years of barefoot walking and running had never let me down. These legs. Legs carved muscular through years of sports and running and swimming and now yoga and zumba have held my ground in ways I was thankful. My stomach. My anchor my way of knowing right and wrong was a pretty good team player too. To my chest and heart- the comfort of the heart and know it will beat in and out and hasn't stopped yet. To my breasts thankful that they decided to debut later in life in college but sometimes now wanting to put them on the shelf when not needed. Like when I want to take a run around the block. My arms- my right stronger than the left that has been know to hug and hold and sometimes used in arm wrestling. And these hands. These wrinkled hands of irish inheritance, my hands, my mother's, and my brother's, and a younger version of my grandmothers. The fingers have walked and jumped and spread over papers and keys on computers and the discovering the map of anothers hand or to squeeze an arm in encouragement and connection.
My body. My body I have so much to be thankful for. And we have been good friends along the road of this life. But in the unmasking of results. Test results. Not fatal. Not deathly. But not pleasant. And decisions to be made of next steps. Makes me feel betrayed. Betrayed by this body. Betrayed by my dear friends who have helped me along the way. Betrayed in knowing I can't control it. And never could. And as anxiety sets in I can't help but think I will all be okay. For it always has been. Okay. And a blimp on the radar of health in our modern time could really make the difference in the future in ways it couldn't before. In living in prevention, we sometimes have things unmasked before we are ready. Betrayed I feel but faith in having that this body, this body that has never failed me. Yet. Won't fail me today. Or tomorrow.
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