This is the story of a girl, who cried a river and drowned the whole world.
Sitting here at the neurologists office. Anxious, nervous…
I’ve never been to something like this. My apointment was at one o’ clock, it is now one-twenty, and I’m not even next to go. The lady next to me just told me that her appointment was at twelve-twenty, and that they’ve been waiting for hours. Damn, I knew I should have brought a book.
Sitting there, waiting, a sad reality hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m all alone.
No boyfriend, no mother. In a strange part of a strange town that I’ve never been to before. I shrug. Guess that’s a part of growing up.
What will they do with me? I’m only here for migraines (with an aura) to assess my risk of stroke, but the anxiety is still too much. At 21, being assessed for my risk of a stroke? Isn’t life supposed to be just beginning and aren’t I supposed to be healthy? Supposed to be.
Ahh, that must be it. My anxiety stemming from the fact that I actually am a very sick girl, going through hell with a disease of the digestive system. Been sick since July. July. It’s now two days until October. What is that, 3 months now? There’s still no sight of recovery, either. Now it just seems that recovery is the light at the end of a tunnel; a tunnel that never ends. The various rounds of medication I have been on have helped, but haven’t exactly cured me. Cure. What a word. And something that so many people are striving towards as well. A cure for cancer, a cure for diabetes, a cure for their husband’s couch-potato-ish existence.
The worst part is, I had overcome my fear of food, and had been eating healthy and exercising almost every single day. But when I got sick, all of that fell apart.
One-thirty-five. The seconds are ticking by, and still no sign of the doctor.
I start to think. How is it that a little micr0-organism, a little bacteria has caused me so much grief and pain? Since July, a little colony of the bastards have been living and thriving in my intestines.
Doctors are now successfully completing surgery on unborn children, astronauts have been on the moon, and we can observe galaxies millions of light years away, but they can’t cure this disease? My disease.
It really gets you thinking: our greatest enemies are not other people, animals, or even extra-terrestrials. Our greatest enemies are these horrid little pests that one cannot see from the naked eye. Strange, isn’t it?
Took a break for lunch. Wolfed down my sloppily-made sandwich so I could pop another pill. This had become my reality now. Force feed myself so I can consume one pill, four times a day, for a few months now.
Two-thirty. Looks like my wait is up. Wish my tedious little brain luck.
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I look at myself in the reflection of the bus window. I do have very Ukrainian features, as the neurologist pointed out. The green almond shaped eyes, slanted ever-so-slightly. The full lips and cheeks, and of course, the round head! Ha! Is it ever round.
If I went to Ukraine, I would fit right in, she said. Thank you, brain-lady! I take that as an extreme compliment, as it is well known that Slavic women are among some of the most beautiful in the world.
I smile. I am pretty, aren’t I? Gracious, lustful, young. I gotta quit being so hard on myself. After all, I can do various things with grace, can’t I? I can write, and this makes me proud. I wonder what witty metaphor might roll off my tongue next.
I turn on my iPod. 54th song of about a 655 song playlist. We can’t have that! I have a habit of restarting my shuffle list on the beginning of a new journey. I feel like continuing a past playlist is cheating. Cheating what, I wonder? It doesn’t matter, but I still choose a new shuffle for a new adventure. Ah, here we go. Alexisonfire. Now I can relax, this music makes me feel at home.
Lustful. That word floats around in my mind, like a cloud would float weightlessly in the sky on a warm summers day.
This brings me back to the whole point of my neurologist visit.
I sit a very happy girl. The neurologist did bring good news after all. My risk of stroke only increases six percent, which means I can safely go back on the birth control pill.
Good riddens. As I sit here on the bus and feel the vibrations in between my legs, tickling my fun-bits, the implications of this sink in.
Yes! This means I had bought my last pack of condoms a week ago! Condoms will just be a thing of that past, gone and forgotten. Now I’ll be able to be thrown into a fit of passion without a silly little piece of latex ruining the mood and breaking concentration, if not breaking itself.
You know, being with someone for two years and having to use a condom is a death sentence for any true intimacy or passion. It’s not like I could have simply been put on a non-hormonal IUD (for you folks who couldn’t bother be interested in birth control lingo, this stands for an Intra-Uterine-Device, which is a funny little contraption they slip into your uterus to prevent a fertilized egg fusing to the uterine lining). No, no, of course life wouldn’t make it that easy for me.
I have hormonal issues, and I suspect is has something to do with Poly-Cycstic Ovarian Syndrom (PCOS). I have never gotten my period regularly, and likely never will. They also caused much grief and pain, being extremely heavy and a full week long. Among other things.
So, seeing the neurologist today was my only hope of ever living a condomless life with the love of my life.
Ah. Of course. On comes a young lady who looks barely 18, pushing a stroller onto the bus, with a white trash-looking boyfriend hobbling closely behind.
Why do people let this happen to themselves? Too often I see it in this small town.
It’s often that small, conservative towns have these kinds of youngsters. No sex education. Abstinence-only.
Yep, through careful observation, it’s quite clear that that’s working. I roll my eyes.
Anyways, who am I to judge? I don’t know their situation, and it is likely that they didn’t imagine this situation for themselves, just like I never would have imagined myself in the health situation I am in now.
Oh well, as long as I make sure it doesn’t happen to me! Thank you, birth control pill!
Although I’m still a very sick girl, life has been kind to me today. As I walk home, I have a new-found bounce in my step. Wow, that’s something that hasn’t happened in a while. It is Thursday after all, and the long week is finally over.
I walk into my house, and is it ever great to be home, after a long day of travelling and doctors.
My journey has finally ended.
"A white blank page..." 
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