Day six- Memories of youth

I feel okay this morning. Tired and that damn nagging headache is here. Took my Cellcept which usually makes the headache go away sometimes. But it seems to be lingering this morning. I slept most of the night only got up once to go to the bathroom. Woke up about 6 am that's late, I laid in bed until 7, my mind doing its thinking.




Since I’ve been sick I haven’t had health insurance and I couldn't afford the premiums for coverage, well maybe I could but on top of the premiums I would have a co-pay and they didn't cover the meds. So I continued with the hospital plan. Now there's this new program through the healthcare reform where I'll be able to get health coverage at an affordable rate. Only the hospital I go to is not in the network. I like my Rheumatologist and would have like to keep her. I told her this and she said it was okay she will help me find good doctors. I should be happy I will be enrolled in an excellent hospital. But I have a problem with doctors. Some of them can be so impersonal. They read the records and half hear what you say.



Before I was diagnosed with lupus I guess they thought I was a hypochondriac. Now they take for granted my symptoms and just say it's the lupus. My current doctor explains things to me and listens. One good thing is that I'll be able to get the heart catherization and find out if I have Pulmonary Hypertension. Then I can get treated and may be this itchy throat and cough will subside. Maybe I will get prescribed some good pain killers and real sleeping pills. My old doctor is in the network, he use to give me codeine, I slept like a baby with it.



I started thinking about this blog. I feel like Julie from the movie Julia/Julie. Waiting to see comments and followers which aren’t happening. Well I guess 6 days, Give it time, huh? Some of my family and friends have read and they commented personally.

Today I’m going to reminisce about happier times. When I was a little girl my sister and I were left home with my grandmother. She had us on a routine. Breakfast most days freshly cooked, pancakes, French toast, grits with tuna, bacon, liver or sausage, home fry potatoes, or hot cereal in the winter or cold cereal in the summer.

In the winter we played on the side of the table against the wall with the window. We had our boundaries; we could play under the table on our side, but never on the other side. We could play from wall to wall but not past the piano. Never ever in the living room.

Gran would watch her stories, cook dinner, clean and every now and then yell at us for yelling or doing something we weren’t suppose to. She kept a hawk eye on us.

In the summer we were sent to play in the backyard. If it was laundry or gardening day we played in the sand box, which by the end of the summer became dirt. We made some really good mud pies. Other days Gran would put a sheet over the clothes line, we had one of those square polls that stuck in the ground and had several lines from every corner to hang the clothes on. She would give us a blanket for the ground and we would play house. On other days, she would put the sprinkler on or put the hose over the clothes line. My sister and I would catch butterflies, my sister would use the cup hand technique and I used the pinch the wings. We would put our Monarch or white moths in a mayonnaise jar that had holes in the top, Gran would give us a flower to feed them. I think about that now and it was cruel. Just like the jar of lighting bugs we caught at night. We should have let them go before we went in. I remember when we found them dead we would open the jars and shaking their deceased carcasses in the trash cans. As good Catholics we really should of said a pray. Forgive me God for imprisoning and killing your creatures. Today I don’t like killing any insects. Well, roaches, mice and rats are an exception; I don’t think God created such nasty things.

Around noon, Gran would give us lunch, a sandwich and ice tea. After she would put us down for a nap. When we woke up we took a bath and put on clean clothes, had dinner, then sat in the living room or porch to wait for our mother to come home so we could go play in the front of the house.

We got to play with the neighbor kids and ride our bikes. We weren’t allowed to play in the street, or go past the three houses on the left or the three houses on the right. I hated this. The only consolation was that we got to stay out later then the next door neighbors. Mom use to sit on the porch drinking her beer and smoking her cigarettes. A bunch of us use to sit on the steps playing games like school where you moved up the steps when you picked the hand with the rock from the teacher. Who ever reached the top step was the winner. We did play hide and seek, but when it got dark the game was over for my sister and me. Eventually we got to play in the street and punch ball became the thing. And we got to ride our bikes all the way to the corner.

Mom overprotected us. Once my friend, she really wasn’t convinced me not to get on the school bus and to walk home. I did and nothing happened. Before that I use to be scared to do anything bad. I listen to this girl. She lived around the corner and was a year older. I thought she was cool I wanted to be just like her and I believed everything she told me. I was her joke, She told me she went to the movies and saw Superfly, years later when I saw the movie for myself I knew she lied. She told me that the gay guys that dressed like women in the neighborhood had hair on their private parts and that they were really girls because boys didn’t have hair. Another friend later told me boys had periods. (I remember that haunting me as an adult when this kids was watching TV in my house and South Park was on and the boys in the cartoon were talking about having their period. I got so angry because I was a gullible child.) Later another friend told me that her boy friend pulled out after they had sex and the sperm sprayed all over the ceiling and walls of her basement. Another friend told me that she was having sex with all these guys,

I believed all this stuff. I didn’t ask mom cause you didn’t talk about this stuff. So it was up to me to find out for myself. Mom told me once my reputation was bad that’s all anyone would know. She said a man can wallow in the mud, get up take a shower and no one would remember. But a woman, they will talk about her for the rest of her life. I kinds’ knew what she meant, but I was curious, when her friend son took me in his bed room with the baseball stickers on the wall and all the boys stuff around and told me to pull down my pants and put his penis in me, that was it. I would do it with who ever wanted it. And they wanted it. I enjoyed the touching but I always thought here was more to ‘cumming’.

I wish someone would of told me how sweet sex would have been had I waited to do it with someone I loved.

After I was a mother, I meet, well I knew who he was, his father live two doors away. I played with his son. I use to watch him drive through the block in his GTO, with its supped up engine. He wore a poncho and cowboy hat like Clint Eastwood in the Good, Bad and Ugly. He approached me. He didn’t give me any illusions, he had a woman and I was just pussy. Fine. He took me to bars, brought me my reefer, even cocaine occasionally. I went with him to his brothers’ house one and the kitchen table was full of cocaine.

The best thing was that he had his own house. Not a bedroom in his mothers’ house. When we had sex he made me touch myself, and ride him until I climaxed. He taught me things about my body I never knew. He would have me get on top of him and make me count all the times I came. The funny thing about it he never had a climax.

After I moved up state and lived with my daughters’ father and played all kinds of sex games with him and mastered the art of masturbation, When, I saw the old man again, I got frustrated because he stopped me before I had my first climax because he almost had one too. He was human and I no longer found him exciting. That has always been an issue with me I got bored after a while. I always wanted something new.