The Artificial Woman-pt. 2 (naked time)

Perhaps impulsive would be a better word than hyperactive to describe Rainbow when she was a young child. When Bob and Kay would have friends over, Kay would ask Lynn and Rainbow to play quietly upstairs.

Quiet wasn't Rainbow's strong suit, at least at that time. When her parents and their friends would least expect it, Rainbow would take off her clothes and run naked through the living room, to the huge laughter of her parents friends, and to the horror of her parents. As long as she was encouraged by the applause of her parents' friends, the entertainment continued, sometimes with clothes on.

Rainbow's family also likes to recount this other story of poor impulse control: One hot summer in 1972, Rainbow's mom, aunt and cousin's were shopping at Mall 205 for material. Rainbow's mom and aunt were going to make bridesmaid and flower girl dresses for another cousin's wedding. Rainbow assessed she was too hot and needed to cool down. Once she got a notion, it didn't go away.

The nearest place she found to cool down was the fountain at Mall 205. Deciding again that it was naked time, Rainbow strayed from the group, disrobed and jumped into the fountain, even though she didn't know how to swim. Rainbow invited her cousin to join her.

Instead her cousin went and told Kay, "Rainbow's in the fountain wading, and she says it's okay. Can I go too?"

"Dammit Rainbow!" Kay cursed as she went to retrieve her wayward daughter.

Well, at least an elderly couple sitting by the fountain got a laugh.

On another occasion, one of Bob's friends named Doug, invited the family over for a swim at his apartment complex. The fact that Rainbow couldn't swim didn't stop her from jumping into the deep end, even when there was no one to catch her. Bob, an excellent swimmer, would hurry to catch her and tell to stay in the shallow end.

Her response to this advice was to run to the deep end and jump in again...and again...and again.

This impulsive and potentially dangerous behavior seemed "free-spirited" to the outsiders, but just plain weird to those closest to Rainbow. Back then, there weren't as many drugs to give a "weird" kid. The parents just bit their lips, and prayed for the child to grow up and out of it.

To Be Continued.

The Artificial Woman

The following is a work of fiction, but based on my 42 years of "research" as a girl with Turner Syndrome:

She seemed like every other baby, a little smaller than average, but not by enough that it raised any red flags for any of the doctors. Her parents named her Rainbow, because it was a popular name in 1967, the year she was born.

One thing the doctors did comment on was Rainbow's toes. They had unusual creases in them.

Like any other baby, Rainbow was loved by her parents, Bob and Kay Yebdog. And her parents received many congratulations from their friends. Rainbow was the second--and last--child for

the Yebdogs. Two years previous, the Yebdogs had been blessed with their first daughter, Lynn.

Mrs. Yebdog says that as a baby, Rainbow didn't so much crawl as slither like a snake. And while Lynn learned to walk at nine-months, Rainbow was about 14 months when she started to walk. And although Rainbow talked a lot, she didn't potty train until she was ready--sometime between two and three years of age.

The problems began shortly after. Rainbow wasn't growing or eating much. Doctors accused her mom of not loving her enough. This, of course, was wrong, and today, wouldn't be said by a doctor.

Then there were the ear infections--one right after the other it seemed--usually combined with nausea and vomiting. Rainbow, being an anxious little girl, didn't like going to the doctor to get treated. Mrs. Yebdog, would try to stealthily call, but somehow, Rainbow knew. Rainbow would cry to her mother for hours, "Am I going to get a shot." And usually she would--of an antibiotic. It seemed possible the Rainbow might lose her hearing because of all of the ear infections.

More on that later.

Another issue was Rainbow's vision. Sometime in pre-school a screening was done that revealed that at the tender age of four, Rainbow would need glasses. At the time this excited her, thinking glasses were a cool fashion accessory. She went to a special eye doctor, and picked out a pair of glasses she called "Cupcake Spice Brown." Eventually glasses would earn Rainbow the nickname "four-eyes".

She didn't know then that there would be other, more cruel names she would be called before she graduated high school.

Despite the problems with her eyes and ears, still no major red flags were raised with respect to Rainbow's health. Everyone, be it friends or family, noticed that she was a rather hyperactive child. This amused many, but sometimes frustrated her parents.

.......to be continued........

The Missing "X" Again.

I was disturbed by something I read in the local paper today. A couple is suing because they were allegedly misinformed about their daughter's condition. A pre-natal test did NOT indicate the girl had Downs Syndrome, but after the girl was born, it became evident she did. The couple says had they known this, they would have aborted.

I don't usually write about my Turner's Syndrome, but this story reminded me of when I was first diagnosed at age 13. I felt like a freak. Hated being a "syndrome". And the book my parents were given seemed so condescending.

A brief reminder, TS is a chromosomal defect that affects some 1/2000 LIVE births. Only girls get TS. Those girls that become live births can have a multitude of "problems" ranging from infertility to heart and kidney problems. Often learning can be difficult for TS girls.

The book my parents were given was called "Good Things Come In Small Packages". What bothered me about that book was the FAQ section. It had questions like:

• Are TS girls retarded?
• Are they promiscuous?

And there were others, but the "retarded" thing stuck with me. So when I read the article today, it made me wonder what my parents would have done, had they known sooner of my TS. Of course they love me, and it's a moot point now. I'm 42, a college graduate, mom and wife. But still it makes me wonder, with today's pre-natal testing what lengths parents will go to to get the "perfect" baby and if a TS baby is too "imperfect".

The Tale of the Chubby Programmer and the Short Assignment Editor

Sometime in either 1990 or 1991 it happened. I was working till midnight at KOIN-TV on the assignment desk, listening to a million scanners and dispatching crews as necessary.

 After my shift, I staggered home.  I was living with my parents at the time, as they felt sorry for me, and didn't want me to try and live on $5 an hour.

When I enter the house, I hear my dad's stereo  blaring in the basement.  I go downstairs and find a strange man on the couch, rocking out to Pink Floyd with my dad and sister.

Turns out this man works with my sister at a start-up company called Verdix. He had bragged about the awesomeness of his stereo, and wanted to hear my dad's, presumably to compare and contrast. My sister obliged, and invited him over.

As soon as the strange man stands up to shake my hand hello, I am almost frightened by the size of this creature--over six feet tall! I'm just shy of five feet.

"Hi, I'm Bruce," he might have said. "My dad always taught me to stand up when a lady is present."

I must have said "hello" back, but again, I was a little awestruck.

A couple of weeks after that meeting, my sister calls and asks me what I thought of Bruce, and if I would date him (provided he asked).

Sometime after THAT, Bruce calls. We spend three hours on the phone talking about Madonna, Frank Zappa, and Midnight Oil (all music acts). We finally discuss the idea of dating, and I tell him that I would love to go to a local pub, and then go to his house to listen to his stereo.

He was overjoyed! He thought he'd have to take me to an expensive place.

We date for a year, and live together another two, before getting engaged. I'll never forget the reaction I got from my dad.  Granted, it was late at night (11pm) but I called to tell my  parents anyway. Here's how I remember the exchange with my dad.

ME: Dad, Bruce and I are engaged.

DAD: Your mother's asleep, do you want me to wake her up?

ME:  No that's okay.

DAD: Are you happy?

ME: Yes.

DAD: Okay, I'll tell your mother (click).

June 11, 1994  we get married. Much has happened since then, but I have learned a couple of things from being married 15 years:

Opposites attract, and learn to love the roller coaster.

tears of a clown

It's a bitch being human. More to the point, it's a bitch having human feelings.  Right now I'm having too many--feelings that is.

Just yesterday, I was marveling at the sun.  Today--right now--it's raining.  

I have made many friends on my journey with cancer. I wish I could get used to the notion that they are sick, too, but every time I hear that one of my cancer friends has taken a turn for the worse, it feels like shock and awe, and not the good kind.

I know their worry, and I have cried their tears, but what can one do when one is helpless.

I need answers, and I simply haven't found any. I will continue to try to comfort my friends in any way that's useful, whether it's laughter, or tears of a clown.

Having a Moment.

It's  my favorite time of day--morning before anyone else awakens. Nothing but my coffee with skim milk, and a ray of sunshine streaming through the basement window. The peace before the chaos of getting everyone (including my husband) out of bed.

Today I was up just as the sun was rising. I watched the sun rise, and since then, have not been able to have a negative thought today.

It's supposed to rain later. I'm sure I'll have new thoughts then.  My moods change like the weather.

Until then, I'm worshipping the Sun God.

Happy (belated) Birthday Dad!

Seventy-two years ago yesterday, a man named Elmer Bartelle Godbey was born. The world would never be the same.

About the time he turned 30, he became my dad.

I owe a lot of things to my dad, starting with my interest in music and writing. 

I would say I also get my sense of humor from him.  It's the kind of humor where you don't know the direction of the jokester's train of thought, or if he is really joking.

Dad chose to celebrate his 72 years on the planet relatively quietly.  We went to his favorite Chinese place, followed up by a visit to my sister's for lemon cheesecake that was to die for.

Ironically, on his birthday, I also visited his mother a.k.a. my grandma.

I would not be here without either of them.