So, the other day while talking with a dear friend about his past, err "lady friends" he commented: "You're jealous" or some shit to that effect. Now here's something you need to know, if you don't already. Like little Mowgli in the Jungle Book, I was raised by wolves. That is the basis of my upbringing. However, I also experienced a number of interventions from none other than my paternal grandma, Aline Fields. (Pronounced Ay-leen..Get it right, now.) And here's what you need to know about her- she despised people who would fall prey to petty and self indulgent emotions like jealousy. Her argument was always: "You don't have a damn thing that I can't get for myself. So why should I be jealous?" And she wasn't lying. She had many "man friends" and too many mink coats to count....Now that's pretty awesome coming from an African American woman with barely a high school education. And, I took her rigorous training to heart.
Jealousy is something that I too struggle to accept in my fellow human being. I just don't get it.
Until now.....
Ok, now this isn't going to be a blog about how I have somehow morphed into someone prone to this emotion. No...It's more of an exploration of what I am jealous of. Here it is. Are you ready? I'm jealous of your healthy immune system.
I think in a previous blog I mentioned my desire to kick old, healthy people. I meant it then- and still mean it today. I'm not proud. But there it is. And this week I experienced a little set-back in that I ran out of white blood cells- literally I had none. Those of you who get to take your healthy immune systems for granted do shit like, go to lunch with friends, go to the bathroom and NOT WASH YOUR HANDS (nasty, btw); and eat fresh fruits, vegetables and rotten, stinky cheeses.
As of last Thursday July 5, I have been quarantined. With those big old deer-in-the-headlights eyes, that members of the medical profession have when they tell you some serious business, nurse Deb told me to stay away from all of humanity and to basically bathe in Purell every 15 minutes. Do you know how harsh that stuff is on your skin? Since I also had chemo that day, I figured holing up someplace for a FEW DAYS wouldn't be a problem- especially since I sleep an average of 36 hours a day post treatment.
But wait- here's what happened- My gay, Jewish boyfriend from NYC came for a visit to my hometown AND the sun came out in Seattle. In between my napping sessions, GJBF regaled me with tales of his exciting life in the city. We talked about things like his neighborhood grocery shopping ventures, ordering in food containing mushrooms and the endless Chinese dumplings obtained from what can only be described as the Super Fund site, known as NYC's Chinatown. Seriously, once while visiting there, I watched a little kid take a dump in the gutters; and no one batted an eye.
NYC to an immune compromised person is the equivalent of drinking water from a nuclear power plant.
Now the sun coming out in Seattle is truly something to celebrate. WCDOP, Paul very kindly texted me photos of sun rises and idyllic boat docks. And truly I was happy for him. Honest. I was. But then he started blah-blah-blahing about his great run around Greenlake and his forays to Pike Place Market and to the movies. It was about that time when I entertained the idea of simply, well, choking him. For you see, (Aline, please understand) I was jealous.
While never that chick who ran anywhere- ever (and especially not as a form of exercise????) I took it for granted that I could, if I ever wanted to. And today, right now I would celebrate just being able to touch a public door handle- instead of making one of my kids do it for me. (Though it does evoke images of Queen Elizabeth I)...and don't even get me started on the state of affairs my toenails are in.....
So, there you have it. While I may not be prone to coveting things like say your: man, perfect hair, excellent shoe library, cavity free smile or your ability to write your holiday card in iambic pentameter, I will mow you down for your immune system, Martha Stewart style; for I am not a woman to be trifled with.....
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