Monthly Archives: April 2012
Turner Point
When I was about 11 years old I got sick with a bad cold or flu. At the same time I had also developed a goiter. My eyes protruded and my neck had a tire like bulge. The doctor ran some tests and we discovered I had a thyroid condition. It would require daily medication and was easy enough to treat. However, I also wasn’t growing. At the time I was hovering well below 5′, despite my parents being taller than average. My dad is 6′ and my mom is 5’8″. Further tests lead to a more devastating diagnosis of Turner Syndrome (TS). Essentially I was born missing one of the two X chromosomes every girl and woman has. This leads to short stature, infertility, and a variety of other possible complications. This is a rare condition affecting 1 out of 2,000 to 5,000 female births, and only about 1% to 2% of embryos with this condition are actually born. With this diagnosis my life became a regular series of doctors appointments as I was growing up. I was placed on a protocol by my specialist, and as her oldest patient I was a test subject for her as well. This protocol consisted of Human Growth Hormone (HGH) and Estrogen Replacement Therapy. I had a sonogram of my kidneys to make sure they were formed correctly. I regularly got x-rays to see how my bones were fusing. This was certainly a difficult thing to face during adolescence, when a child may already feel different, to have a genetic test confirm, indeed you are quite different. I could get angry at God for giving me this to deal with, but I never have. I have the sense that I am lucky to have been given the life I was, despite it’s imperfections. It is part of my life, and something I have to deal with on a regular basis. I will never have a child of my own, and can only get pregnant using a donor egg and IVF. Adoption is something I have tossed around, and the idea of giving a child a home and family that needs one seems to be the route I would feel comfortable taking. Why try to crate a child when I would face a more than risky pregnancy, why not find that child who needs me? I feel that might be my purpose if I am to become a mother. I am at risk for heart issues, diabetes, eye problems, osteoporosis, hearing loss, just to name a few. Since there are limited women and girls with this condition to study, it isn’t easy for doctors to know with certainty what issues a TS patient will face as they age. I did reports on the condition in school to learn more, and had for a time thought I wanted to go into the field of medicine specializing in this and similar conditions. My hope was to give assistance to others facing what I had faced. Although I realized quickly my squeamishness would not be conducive to a career in medicine. Besides and physical issues, there are the psychological issues that go with a genetic condition. Dealing with infertility from such a young age is not easy. It certainly sets a TS teenage girl apart from her peers. Feeling like you don’t quite measure up to society standards is never an easy thing to deal with, and knowing how you don’t measure up doesn’t make it any more palatable. It isn’t that TS makes a girl or woman masculine, but you certainly don’t feel like you are quite an average woman. It is hard to feel like you can be accepted for who you are, when you feel so apart from the average. Fortunately I am taller than the average TS woman, although this brings me to the conundrum of sharing TS with them, but somehow being different from them. I feel that I can’t even fit in with TS right somehow, because I tower over them, so sometimes I feel where do I really fit in? Where can I be accepted? Hard things to wrap my head around. Yes, every woman has her body issues, but this condition is so linked to your womanhood, accepting yourself is not without difficulty. This diagnosis may not have been the most devastating by some standards, but it certainly changed how my life would play out. I have faced unique challenges, and will most likely continue to do so for the rest of my life.
K
Pen and Sword
My love of books and reading, along with my deep desire to write has made me think about the power of the written word. The power an author has in their words placed on the page is tremendous to behold. Authors take the reader in, hopefully if they have great skill, and essentially share their “world” with the reader. Whether it is fiction or nonfiction, the author is the ultimate creator of what the reader experiences. The phrase the pen is mightier than the sword comes to mind. Seeing just how much damage a scathing article can have on someone, or how deeply people come to love characters in a favorite novel or series, makes it apparent how deeply we connect with the written word. I have a friend and real blogging maven, who I am always amazed by how she can share an experience, making it come alive somehow on the page. There is something compelling about sharing one’s emotions and thoughts on the page, because somehow in writing it down, the emotions behind it feel stronger or more visceral. That also allows some sense that those feelings or emotions have been worked through in a more concrete manner. Giving expression to what rages inside feels necessary somehow, and the pen seems the most expedient way of going about expressing emotions, and working through something nagging at the mind.
K
When to Fold ‘Em
3rd Wheel
K
The Waiting Games
I am in the process of reading several continuing series right now and realize how frustrated I truly get as I wait to see how these series will play out. Waiting, in most instances up to a year or more, after finishing one book for the next in a series is slow torture. Because I have read a few series when all the books have been available, meaning there is no wait, I ask myself why did I start series that are still ongoing, boy was that a bad move! I feel like I am left in the middle of some great event, and then it abruptly stops so they can take a time out. Not knowing what will happen next that really does me in, I ALWAYS have to know. Leaving characters in peril or questions unanswered really doesn’t suit me at all. I get that it is a trick, played to keep those like me coming back for more, but ugh, it isn’t an easy wait. A good author makes that time between books worth the wait. If they can return and make you feel satisfied they have made it worth the torture. I have two books coming in May that I can’t wait for, so I am waiting for April to hurry up so I can delve back into stories that have left me waiting for far too long.
K
A Discovery of Witches – Deborah Harkness

Seeking Mr. Darcy
In the dating world, what you want isn’t often what you get. As an devoted Jane Austen fan I freely admit I am not immune to the charms of one Fitzwilliam Darcy. I know he isn’t ever going to exist in the real world, since he is only a literary character, but, that doesn’t mean a girl can’t hope. Not so much for Darcy to pop into existence and into my life, but more so I want that playful courtship he and Elizabeth endure. It is that guy who is seemingly so very wrong for you, but turns out to be just who you need that intrigues me. Despite being fiction, that is something that seems like something that can actually happen, granted not all the time, but it isn’t out of the realm of all possibility.
Surrounded by relationships, it isn’t that I need a relationship to survive, no one I think really does, it is more that I want it to give me something more in my life. Someone more in my life, someone who is all mine. I don’t know if searching for it or letting it happen naturally is the best approach. How can you make something like that happen? Date after date, meeting after meeting, waiting for something to take foot. Overwhelming comes to mind. Honestly, it could take years, decades, and I am not as young as I once was. The prospect of the search for my Mr. Darcy is daunting and not something I could take lightly, and just have fun going with the flow. Wasting time isn’t something I like to do; I like order and set parameters with the anticipated goal there for the taking. Questioning what is wrong with me at every turn becomes easy to do with each date failure. Wondering why it isn’t happening for me. Wondering where my happy ending is. It just seems it shouldn’t be this difficult or stressful, it shouldn’t have be so much work. So in the end I sit and groan, not really sure of how I should proceed when I feel so dejected either way I go as I seek Mr. Darcy.
K