RSS Become a Fan

Delivered by FeedBurner

Recent Posts

The Rejection
Every Penny
100 Days
The Girl at the Cashier


July 2020
June 2020
March 2020
February 2020
January 2020
December 2019
November 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
June 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
February 2014
November 2013
July 2013
June 2013

powered by

The "Wu Word" Blog

July 2016

Just Friends

When I was roughly 7-years-old, I had my first boy friend.  Not ‘boyfriend,’ but ‘boy friend.’  His name was Marc.  
Marc and I met at church.  He had fuzzy brown hair that stuck up everywhere and blue eyes that I wanted so badly compared to my boring brown eyes.  I forgot how we met, but we became fast friends.  We used to rush and race to the swings to pump our legs to see how high we could fly and throw our hands up in the air when we slipped down the slide.  The adults nicknamed us “M & M” for obvious “Marc & Mary.”  The adults and children giggled and whispered that we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  I didn’t even think twice that Marc was a boy and I was a girl.  We just clicked and had fun.  We were ‘just friends.’
Marc eventually moved away and I was bereft of my buddy who I had loads of fun with on the playground at the church.  I missed him.  I did not see and never saw Marc any different from all my other friends who all happened to be girls.  However, when I was finishing up elementary school and then went into middle school and definitely high school, it was suddenly viewed that boys and girls were not ‘just friends.’  Cooties turned to Crushes.  Hormones ran high.  My ease and fun talking with Marc when I was a little girl suddenly vanished, and I was a tongue-tied and blank-minded teenager around boys.  During that time, I asked for the first time: “Can guys and girls be friends?”
Forgive me for not recalling someone who once said to me: “Guys and girls cannot be friends if they are both single, unless one or both of them is attracted to their same gender.  There will always be that sexual attraction or tension.”   
I found this rather dismal and unbelievable, for this completely contradicted my friendship with Marc.  This person explained, “You and Marc were just kids.  It all changes once you go through puberty.  Guys and girls can ONLY be friends if one of them is already in a committed relationship with someone else whether it is with another guy or girl.”
Then another question slipped from my mind outside of my mouth: “Can guys and girls be friends again if they were once in a relationship?” 
Two responses I’ve received were “It Depends” to a blunt and rather abrasive “No way because it is all or nothing.” 
Needless to say, I was very dismayed and down with this interpretation because of my friendship with Marc.  It was never about him being a boy and me being a girl; that thought only came in when I was older.  It was about us being friends. It doesn’t help that we (particularly women) are fed fairytales of new beginnings and happy endings of man and woman as friends only to end up together by the end of the movie.  At what point do we see the blatant ‘differences’ of others that can question and contradict the similarities that forged the friendship in the first place?  What if we could just be friends with a person just for the person and not from all the blatant differences of gender or religion, ethnicity, and more?  What characteristics attract you towards a certain person to form a friendship? Did you have just a ‘guy’ or ‘girl’ as a friend?
Indeed, can guys and girls be friends?  Can they be friends if they were once in a relationship or dating?  How come we interpret the ‘all’ or ‘nothing’ that if a single guy and single girl are hanging out together alone AND not in a relationship with a significant other that they must be in a relationship? 
Of course, I still wonder where good old Marc went—would we be ‘just friends’? ;-)
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,

Mary ;-) 

The Weight of the World

Mad world
Crimson red
More are dead
On the news
Many views
15 minutes claim to fame
Remember all their names
We really are the same
In feeling all this pain
Who’s right?  Who’s wrong?
Who lives? Who dies?
All these lives lost
At what cost?
Crazy world
Safety now so shaky
Daily body count
What’s the amount?
Anger is one letter short of danger
We really are not such differing strangers
So, why are we so divided?
When all we truly need is to be united

5 Years

“So, where do you see yourself in 5 years?”
The chair squeaked slightly when he shifted his body leaning in towards me.  He gripped on to the ruled legal pad with a pen poised above ready to write.  His gaze was expectant and eager to hear my ambitious goals to climb up the long and high ladder of success for more money, more prestige, and more respect and less time, less energy, and less enjoyment. 
I wanted to tell him that I was only about the day-by-day; All I wanted to be and saw myself in 5 years was alive, healthy, and happy in the company of the simple and good times of food, family, and real friendships that are few and far in between.  I craved to confess that I was just happy to be alive and working when so many others did not have this privilege.  To add to this confession, I did not have any career goals, ‘ambition’ was not even in my language, and 5 years from now was not even in my mindset because all I had and all that we have are here and now.  I wished to share the Chinese saying to him that went something like this, but sounded more poetic in the Mandarin language: “The Chinese say that the higher you go up, the lonelier you will feel.  The view from the top will be beautiful, but it will lonesome and will not matter if you have no one to share the view with.” 
“I just see myself working and learning new things,” I finally said.
He was unimpressed.  I had disappointed him.  But, I would not apologize.  There was nothing to apologize for because my greatest goal and priority was to be healthy and live each and every single day the way I wanted to live it and not according to anything or anyone else.  I was not the ambitious and cutthroat worker that he had hoped for me to be.  However, would you be so surprised to hear that I was once the façade of this person? 
Over 10 years ago when I started working, I was thin-skinned and the #1 combined work lesson I was given was: “Do not take anything or anyone personally AND develop a thick skin.”  Now, the #1 work lesson I am given is: “You learn as you go.”  When I began working out of college, I gave the interviewers and employers the answers they wanted to hear about my wishes and desires to maybe be in management, go for a higher degree so I’ll supposedly be smarter and get an even better job, and make myself in the polished product rather than an actual person that would produce great results and succeed at anything and everything.  Somewhere along the lines of life in the last 5 years and then more, the angles and twists and turns happened to learn that time is non-refundable especially with the people we love and care about, working until the wee hours into the night will not matter on our deathbeds, there aren’t always clear answers to questions and you learn the answers and life as you keep going, and all the money in the world can make life easier, but not bring you all the health, happiness, and genuine relationships to connect with others.
Please don’t get me wrong.  I’m always for bettering and there is always room for improvement, but at what point can we just happy and content with what we already have rather than always searching, fighting, and climbing our way to what we think will be better and even the best?  Are you ambitious?  Do you plot out and even plan in your career ways to years from now?  How have you changed from 5 years ago to 5 years ahead?  How have you answered this question of ‘where do you see yourself 5 years from now’?  Have you met your expectations to your answered question? 
I can no longer measure my life by years, minutes, and the stretch of time that continues to march and beat to its own rhythm and rhyme that none of us have control over. I try to measure life by the moments and in the here and the now, because life is immeasurable.  
How do you measure life?
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,

Mary ;-) 

The Worst-Case Scenario

He looked the same.  Just a little older and thinner.  He was having a bad day.  I could tell from his drawn expression, confessions from bad news that resulted in long conversations with tearful patients, and apologies to the 2 hour wait to see him.   
His buttoned white coat was almost all the way to the very top to his curved collarbone,, but not just quite to reveal his signature bow tie.  I wonder what happened to him in the last two years since he cut me open and fought his way through the adhesions and scar tissue from the previous surgeries.  How had his life been?  How many more women only had he sliced open below the equator?  When would I be on the operating table yet again for my body to be at the mercy of his scalpel? 
I was prepared for the worse.  My prediction: surgery.  It always ended up in surgery for me.  I already imagined the procedure would be in September as it was in 2 years ago so I could recover in the comfort of Mother Nature’s crisp autumn air and picturesque golden and crimson-colored leaves.  I was ready.  This was it. 
To my shock, a smile stretched on his face when he announced, “No surgery.” 
I blinked a couple times.  Surely, I heard him wrong.  “What?!”  I exclaimed.
He started drawing diagrams and explaining about the complex world of cysts: ovarian cysts, multiple cysts, and post-surgical cysts: “Mary, a MRI is the clearest scan there is with the contrast.  According to this MRI report, you only have one simple 3cm cyst growing in the ovary and everything around that we were not sure about is post-surgical cysts, lesions, adhesions.” 
I sputtered, “How can it be that one scan says two ovarian cysts equivalent to a 10cm tennis ball one week and the other scan says one 3cm a week later?  Oh, and why can’t anyone find my left ovary since my hysterectomy?”   
He did not have a concrete answer for me and kept trying to explain through diagrams that ovaries are always changing with the eggs, cycles of ovulation, and more.  My head was spinning.  The body was amazing, confusing, complicated, and, most of all, a real miracle that it kept on going from all these various systems.  This has to be a sheer miracle.
He came to the conclusion that it was useless for my body to undergo ultrasounds that always caused and spiked anxiety and confusion from now on and it was best for me to undergo enclosed MRIs filled with banging outer space noises intermingled with headphones blasting classical music in my ears was what I had to do now every 3 months for active monitoring.  If the cyst got bigger, well….we would go from there. 
I was speechless.  I was stunned.  I couldn’t believe it.  I had spent days agonizing and anticipating the worst case surgical scenario.  I had researched and worried to my closest friends who gathered information tirelessly.  I was tested twice for Ovarian Cancer after suspected Uterine Cancer that had resulted in my hysterectomy two years ago.  For as much bad news and worst case scenarios that I had actually received and endured in my life, I had also received just as much moments of immense greatest news that always left me humbled, awed, and more thankful than could ever be expressed into words or fully described.  I always say that it is not that ONE single moment that changes you and your life, but it is many little moments that lie in the anticipation and the aftermath.  This was no different.  Receiving the best news that completely contradicted with the worst of what I predicted in this situation and others brought on such joy, elation, euphoria, relief, and, most of all, perspectives of magnitude of gratitude that is even greater after the predicted worst case scenario does not come true. 
I think we think of the worst so if it happens then we won’t be shocked or surprised and we will feel like we are better able to and equipped to handle it.  I think we do not think of the best out of fear of disappointment and let downs.   If we can handle the worst then this already feels like beyond the best.  Yet, how funny that when the worst case does not happen that this is the best that could ever happen! 
Have you ever heard anyone ask: “What is the best that could happen?”  I’ve only heard: “What is the worst that can happen?”  What if we were to think of what would be the best instead of the worst?  Do you tend to imagine the worst case scenario to prepare yourself for it, and have they come true?  Why do we immediately think of the worst in the vast majority of cases and even with people?  Is it a coping mechanism for if the worst were to happen?  Is it to try to ward of disappointment and expectations?  When have you thought of the worst only to be surprised by the best?   
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,

Mary ;-) 

The Hang Up

Click.  Dial tone. 
“Did he just hang up on me?  Oh, no, he didn’t!” I sputtered.
Anger surged through me.  No one had ever hung up on me before.  Especially a doctor.  In the middle of me trying to express my confusion and question about the process of his clinic with long-term kidney transplant recipients as myself, he had hung up.   His poor administrative assistant was the brunt of my fury as I clamored, “I do not care if you are the President of the United States of America!  You do not hang up on people!  That is the rudest thing you can do to anyone!”
Desperate and upset, I called my regular nephrologist who was like Santa Claus in a white coat rather than red suit.  I was his patient for at least five years after departing from my pediatric nephrologist for over 20 years and another nephrologist for 2 years that had forgotten what transplant I received—yikes, to say the least!  Santa Claus nephrologist and I had always been in complete collaborative mode to maintain my second kidney transplant.  I pictured him nodding in agreement and even enthusiasm and open arms for me to return to being his patient again.  Imagine my shock and dismay when I received his voicemail, “Mary, it wouldn’t be good for your health and kidneys to return back to me because you need to be followed with a transplant center in the long term.  Give this doctor another chance.”
Why was it that I was always fighting with doctors and nurses?  Why were doctors and nurses always rejecting me as their patient?  Was it me?  One of my friends who had known me for years and probably knew me better than myself once said to me: “Mary, a ‘normal’ patient listens and does whatever the doctor says.  You aren’t a ‘normal’ patient with asking all these questions that doctors and nurses see as problematic or challenging.”
My stubborn response, “Well, that’s their problem.  Not mine.  Over 30 years with kidney bean battles.  My body.  My life.  My pre-owned beans.  I fight for them.” 
Something unsettling began to take shape as I listened to my previous nephrologist’s voicemail repeatedly.  In his calming and almost fatherly voice, I heard something he was trying to say without really saying it.  “Give him another chance.” 
How many times had I not given a doctor or really anyone for that matter another chance because the one thing he/she said or did pissed me off resulting me to run away rather than confront and be honest with what really bothered me?  How come it takes so much time to build up a relationship with anyone and then it will be just one thing that will be the downfall of it?  How many times had I tried to escape when I could not from what I had to face or deal with in life?  Too many times.  I lost count.  The doctor had hung up on me, but was I any better than him by leaving instead of facing him and telling him what he did had really bothered me?   
There are many circumstances in life that we have no choice but to face off with and deal with when running away, leaving, escaping, and hiding are not options or even in the life equation.  There is no time or energy for questioning, analyzing, wondering, and waiting when given the only choices but to survive and thrive.  People will stare at you in awe and exclaim: “How do you do it?”  Your response: “You just do it.” These are actually the easy circumstances in life.  Your natural instincts kick in and you kick whatever ass you need to and do what you have to. 
Then, there are circumstances in life when you are given too many choices that often result in questioning of and especially the timing of when to confront or leave and let go.  As a child, I tried to run away and escape from my problems—literally and figuratively.  I ran away from home twice as a little girl with my sister’s small red suitcase that I stole when my parents’ fights got too loud and abrasive for my overly sensitive ears and mind to handle.   I was a guilty party of hanging up on people, slamming doors in faces, and walking away when an escalating argument was ensuing and brewing.  I had switched and changed doctors and nurses as an unhappy patient without ever telling the doctor/nurse what had upset me.  I would drop people without full and clear explanations of why I was doing this. 
All this time, I thought I was fearless in facing and dealing with what I had to—and I was and am, but that is because I had no choice with those circumstances.  However, when given the choices and in difficult encounters with people, I had run away without words of reasoning and explaining all out of fear of confrontation with the other and, most of all, honesty and confrontation with myself.   
As I’ve gotten older, all of this is slowly changing.  This one ‘hang up’ from a doctor made me to realize how much I had ‘hung up’ on others without words and reasoning to them with what had upset me.   The most intriguing part about ‘hang ups’ is that it is a way to try to disconnect and escape but you end up dwelling and getting even more ‘hung up.’
I was definitely ‘hung up’ on all of this with the transplant nephrologist hanging up on me.  Upon this realization of the time I hung up on others, I wrote a lengthy email to this transplant nephrologist and his nurse practitioner outlining my questions and confusion and in regards to my impression of him hanging up on me.  Within minutes, this transplant nephrologist called me back immediately to explain and answer my questions and alleviate my confusion.  There was no apology that came from his lips, but I knew that I was on back on track with him just from my honesty and, especially, giving people and even or particularly doctors chances because we are all human and flawed. 
When have you ‘hung up’ on others without letting them know?  What encounters have had you ‘hung up’ on?  Are you confrontational and unafraid to tell others what you really think and feel?
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,

Mary ;-) 
Website Builder provided by  Vistaprint