Women are pretty resilient and tenacious beings. Despite hardships, physical and emotional abuse, addictions, and fears, we are able to rise up time and again. Our wings may get crushed from time to time, yet we heal and soar to heights unimaginable!
Tess is a young woman living an amazing life, only she doesn't know how amazing it is. Plagued with self-doubt, multiple phobias, low self-esteem, and major insecurities, she goes through life living in a self-induced hell.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/inolongercolormyhair
Excerpt
Chapter Nine
My life changed after the death of my Duchess. There was nothing to smile about. I buried myself in my studies. Science and English were my favorite subjects. I excelled and was pleased when I passed math tests, yet nothing seemed to make me happy. My grades in school remained strong and I wrote about everything that I thought of.
No matter how much my teachers praised me, I rarely smiled about anything at all. Without realizing it, I thought that everyone that I loved would someday leave me.
Then suddenly, I was ill most of the time. It started in fifth grade. The body aches, pains in my joints, and the headaches. When I first complained about my fingers hurting, Allen laughed and said it was because of the way I used my hands to fight. He always laughed at me whenever we played boxing matches together.
“Why are you holding your thumbs up like that! When you make fists, your thumbs aren't supposed to stay up!” Allen teased as he grabbed and bent my vulnerable thumbs back.
“Stop! That hurts, you moron!” I cried.
When the joint pains intensified, Mom rushed me to the Emergency Room. I lay my head in my mother's strong arms. Streaming tears moistened my face and I quietly asked God to let me live.
Waiting was not something that I was very good at doing. Mom kept telling me to hush and be patient until all of the many, many tests were completed. The blood tests hurt, I was extremely hungry, and I hated the smell of the hospital.
A pretty young nurse held my hand while the lab technician drew seven vials of my blood. Although the smells, the other sick children, and the pain medication repulsed me, I found that initial Emergency Room visit memorable. I realized at that moment that I wanted to become a pediatrician. Daddy said that I could become whatever I wanted. Today, I decided that when I grew up I wanted to help sick children feel better.
After all of the tests were run, the doctors could not tell Mommy what was wrong with me! One doctor said, “Madam, your daughter is very sick. We'll have to admit her.”
I saw the look on my mother's face. Her brown eyes were heavy with sadness as she tried to hide her worry. Tears danced across my cheeks, not a dimple was found. I was as frightened as a baby mouse but I didn't want to worry my mother. We were two young women putting up brave fronts.
“Mommy! Don't leave me!” I pleaded.
She smiled, kissed the top of my head, and then stroked my cheek. “Be strong and get a good night's sleep. I'll be back in the morning. Is there anything you want me to bring you?”
I wanted... no, I needed my diary. I knew that I had to tell her my hiding place. “Please bring my diary when you come back. Just look under my pillow.”
Just as my mother was leaving my bedside, the evening shift nurse came in and introduced herself. She fluffed my pillow, showed me how to operate the bed with a multi-button remote control, and invited me to push the call button should I need her for anything.
***
…two weeks later...
Dear Diary,
I’ve been in this hospital forever and I can’t stand it any more! The babies cry all night. I can't get any sleep here! I miss my own bed! Why is this hospital bed so small? I'm the only kid here who is too long for the bed! Oh, please let me go home soon. I miss my mother's cooking and I hate listening to this TV through a little box that sits on my pillow! I hate being sick!
` Tess
Two weeks is a very long time to be cooped up like a pigeon on a Harlem rooftop. I cried every night. Mommy came to see me every day. My sister, Betty, came to see me once. She is sixteen, but they let her come visit me anyway. She brought me two Nancy Drew books, Crayola crayons, and a coloring book. I enjoyed her visit.
I spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. I had talked to one of the nurses and asked when I would be going home.
She smiled and said, “The doctors will speak with your mother about that. How about some jello, pretty girl? Want the green or the red?”
“Yes, please. I’ll have the red one.” My mother and father always stressed exhibiting good manners. “Thank you very much!”
“Are you watching the Thanksgiving Day parade?” She asked excitedly. “It's on now!”
Dejected, I walked away from the Nurses Station down the long hallway back to my room. Aside from crying babies, I could hear the sounds of Thanksgiving celebrated; people were laughing and watching the parade. For as long as I could remember, I hated parades! It seemed like every television in every room on the eighth floor was broadcasting the boring parade!
When I arrived at my room, I stopped to look in on one of the toddlers who was fast asleep in Bed One. He looked so peaceful. It didn’t seem fair that someone so small was so ill. I went to lie on my bed, tuned my TV to Jacques Cousteau Under Sea Adventures, and called Mommy.
“Hi, Tess. Happy Thanksgiving!”
What was so happy about being away from my family on my favorite holiday? “Good morning, Mommy” I replied in a nearly inaudible whisper. “When are you coming?”
Just as my mother was explaining how she was up all night roasting the turkey for the family dinner, a mean old nurse waddled into my room, reached up, turned my television volume to loud, and put the channel on with the parade!
“Mommy, no, I don't want to watch the dumb parade! Why did she do that?” I wailed into the telephone, half-expecting my mother to come through the phone line like you see characters do on cartoons! I wanted her to tell that nurse to turn my TV back to what I wanted to watch. After all, we were paying three dollars a day to have the stupid TV because I was sick.
It was evident in my mother’s tone of voice that this was upsetting me. “When I come up to visit you later, I will take care of the nurses changing your channels. That will never happen again! See you soon, Tess.”
I smiled from ear to ear when Mommy came later that day at one o’clock for visiting hours. She brought me lots of surprises! What a very loving and thoughtful person I have for a mother! In her bag of goodies, she had a new copy of Reader’s Digest, a new box of colored pencils, and a sketchpad! Finally, she pulled out a dinner plate wrapped with aluminum foil. I had Mom’s Thanksgiving dinner in small portions! She even put the beautifully roasted, golden-brown turkey drumstick on the plate with mashed potatoes, turkey gravy, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, collard greens, cranberry sauce, and green beans!
“Oh, Mommy, thank you! I am so tired of this hospital food! Nothing tastes good to me! I want to go home!” I worked myself into quite a state. I lost my appetite and only picked at my dinner.
I could tell how disappointed my mother was at my being stuck in the hospital on Thanksgiving. She said, “I love you, Tess, and I know how you’re feeling. I’ll be right back.”
Mom got up and left me sitting there with my Get Well balloons, books, flowers, and Thanksgiving dinner. I wondered where she had gone and why. Moments later, she returned with a smile on her face. She was obviously quite pleased with whatever she had gone to do.
“Tess, great news! The doctor left orders in your chart that you can go home tomorrow morning! Now isn’t that something to be thankful for?”
I looked at her and whined, “But, why can’t I go home today!” A new flood of crocodile tears poured forth from my already reddened eyes. It seemed that nothing my mother did was ever enough for me.
Frowning, she replied, “You need to learn to be grateful, Tess! You can’t always have everything your way! You need to learn to accept things as they are and be happy with it! I am doing the best I can and you are being very selfish! Now eat your food! By the way, your brothers and sisters send their love.”
What about Daddy? Did he send his love, too? I wondered, but dared not ask the question out loud.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
Sepsis knocked her down and out. Faith, hope, and gave her the strength to get back on her feet. I am a Runner She fought the river of death They said she'd never run again
She proved them wrong...
