Oh my darlin' in anticlimatic

One of the first things I remember was receiving a spinal tap when I was three. At birth, I had a collapsed lung, and was only saved by the miracles of 1980s medicine. But when I was three the glands in my neck swelled to the size of clementines and I was admitted to the ICU for several weeks. Some virus, probably a flu. The spinal tap was to check for some type of specific bone disease, but ultimately the IV drip I towed around with me saved my life. Owed, once again, to the miracles of 1980s medicine.

I often wonder what effect these events had on me. The virus shriveled me to skin and bone, and a part of me never quite recovered from that. Always felt a little bit gaunt compared to average folks. I also wonder if being held down and stabbed by medical staff began my mistrust of authority and general avoidance of doctors. Stands to reason.

The memory of course fascinates me for more interesting reasons than that. For one, my mother is in it. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. She’s doing well now, with a cadre of good friends she hosts often, a lovely Colombian room mate, and two grandchildren to look after. Her hair is white, I think it’s her natural color, though the change from dark auburn to that occurred overnight some years ago. She had been accumulating greys, and had been dying them to match her original color- until they became the democratic majority upon her head, at which point she began dying her hair white to make ready its ultimate color destination. Which, like I said, has been arrived at I believe.

But I think about her in those very early memories. A girl in her 20s, half my own age, with dark hair, fair skin, and all the energy and momentum of youth and the culture and spirit of her time. I look at young mothers today, and I think of her again. Two carbon copies of Reproducing Human Female, from two completely separate worlds and environments, overlapping in the same physical space. I reflect on the seething vortex of time, and all these precious little specks of us spinning about in it.

Last updated October 27, 2021