More than a few of you expressed concern about my experience on Wednesday. Some of you were worried about how the actual experience was affecting me and some of you were troubled about the response – mainly from the men – about my posts about the experience.
Thank you for your concern but I'm fine.
I started this blog for a few reasons: One - this stuff is really running about in my head at all times and I was hoping that putting it on virtual paper would ease the manic ‘what if...’ circles my brain will get itself into. Two - I have no one here to have these random conversations with. I am female in a new place and we females don’t make friends like the males do. Or at least I don’t. I can’t very well tell the parent at work I regrew my uterus during class. It would get awkward when her kid asks what a uterus is and then, before you know it, we’d be in a birds and bees discussion when we're supposed to be pretending we're at the zoo. The boss would not approve.
Rest assured, I will not put up or share online or anywhere anything I have not thought through. A lot. I realize that the Internet is forever. I am comfortable with the fact that someone might someday approach me and point and laugh as they call me on my prominent cervix or my bad grammar. I discovered long ago that I was prone to getting myself into pretty awkward situations and if I didn’t point and laugh at myself, I was going to end up alone or dead.
On that note, here's another awkward story from Wednesday:
After my crazy morning re-growing my uterus, I came home and spent some time moving some of the 4 cubic yards of much I had delivered Tuesday in an attempt to make our yard look landscaped and not ravaged. It was drizzling but that worked in my favor for a while. When it actually started to rain and I started slipping down the hill, I decided to call it quits. I was attempting to push the wheelbarrow up beside the mulch pile when I hit a bump. A small bump, I thought and backed up to take a run at it.
And that is how, at full speed, I ran the wheelbarrow into a large rock and the handle of the wheelbarrow, at full speed, into my pelvic bone.
The pain was pretty intense I almost lay down on the driveway and cried but, smashing my pelvic bone the same day I regrew my uterus? I can’t make that stuff up. Alanis Morissette could write a song about it. So, instead of crying over my possibly shattered pelvic bone, I laughed and I laughed and I laughed. Because really folks, this stuff happens to me and if I don’t laugh about it, I’m a sad, middle-aged woman with a broken pelvis, lying on my driveway crying.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me