“The History of Gender Bias in Medicine Has Roots in"...

This also includes the sentence: "Everyone Has Glass Skin to the Point of it Feeling Like We’re Living in a Simon Berger"

I’m grateful for you today.

Yes, dorky as it is. And dorky as calling my friends Word Nerds has become. (Do I keep sticking with it? I kinda wanna keep sticking with it? It’s been a year of saying Word Nerds! haha)

Thank you. That’s you… if you’re reading this.

Thank you any time you care to share, or to skim, or to suggest someone’s writing to someone else.

Paraphrasing things I’ve said before but: They are small but mighty gestures that I really do think keep the art of writing (especially the dying art of freelance writing)… the act of vulnerability and how it helps us feel less alone or see ourselves in others…and the connection of connecting online alive.

I cannot tell you how many articles and YouTube suggestions I’ve unwillingly seen pop up “for me” lately telling me how much money I could make, or more “followers” I could get, if I started using ChatGPT to do my writing.

Or even my sloppy, hack job intro notes here… or my marketing for Substack… or any of the many teeny-tiny-overly-wrought-words that I type out for almost every single story I share on Instagram, for example, as if AIM Away Messages: Even though they’re going to vanish in 24-hours more often than not.

(Lately, I’ve taken to taking some of those words and putting them here instead so they don’t fully die because… Why not let actually “present day” updates be more present that way?)

Anyways… It’s a new week and I’m thankful for you.

That’s it.

Just hi….

And thanks.

Oh, and something I always love to know about other people all the damn time: WHAT WAS THE FIRST THING YOU ATE AND DRANK TODAY?

(hehe. I wanna know)

xo

I don’t know how I feel about all the flawless looking, lit faces on here lately.

Everyone has glass skin to the point of it feeling like we’re living in a Simon Berger.

I’m not trying to actually use a filter… but all the porcelain and parlor f*cks with the mind.

I’m not trying to take away from my freckles or Roman nose that’s not from Rome (but I’ve only recently tried to make peace with it after a tragic lifetime of my Boca Raton roots making me want to get a nose job but knowing I never ever would or could)…

The dark under eye circles and the sunken spaces that I refuse to warp or adjust with makeup, personally…

An emotive road map that’ll get more and more 3D with more and more life.

In reality, what was once a “soft powder routine” at the time I first wrote this had completely changed because… lately, my skin has completely changed.

I continue to say it’s perimenopause but, whilst waiting on updated labs and often dealing with too high of estrogen and progesterone and too many painful, invasive and reoccurring ovarian cysts even after a surgery less than a year ago… I have no effington clue what’s really been up.

They did the surgery, and the doctor was shocked that more had returned just a couple of months later. They referred me to an oncologist and I… well, I needed to get a job and life got complicated. My spine became and has continued to be the musical theatre diva who steals the lime, and so very often, I truly can’t “do it all”.

If pain is too bad whenst driving, and capitalism and self possession pushes on: I will fry the biggest fish, and grin and grimace the rest.

So… yeah. I have been ignoring some things, but not because I want to. Then again, last we talked about my netherlands… I did not like the current suggestion. The oncologist wanted to turn off my ovaries on a test basis with a shot that’d be in my system with no retraction if something felt unwell. That doesn’t feel well with me, you know?

Birth control made me throw up profusely as a teenager so… it’s scary to imagine anything that can’t be paused- like a pill can be - if it isn’t a “good time” in life.

Chemical menopause because of recurrent and painful ovarian cysts (even post hysterectomy because of CF-adjacent prolapse some 10 years ago) and unhealthy hormonal levels is not something I was ready to dabble in at the time we were wanting to delve.

I wanted more options. I wanted the concerns of my OB to be matched with… a healthcare system that supports all the female patients and female practitioners trapped within it?

Who live with neon highlight underlines like: “The history of gender bias in medicine has roots in a male-dominated research approach, creating a knowledge gap about female health and perpetuating stereotypes and assumptions.”

My skin has changed. I went from obsessing gleefully over powder based products this winter to needing to adapt. I was so dry and flaky that it hurt.

So now… I still love blurs and balms as a barometer, but I’m open to new name habitations entirely.

I think I’m ready for “play” to also evolve into “stay”.

PS: Kindly consider booming a supportive Word Nerd if you’re able (every little bit counts and helps keep this ongoing memoir going, or… Share with you someone you like?