I’m wired to be emotionally cancerous. Part of my introversion is a natural desire to not spread
the cancer of me. So, it’s somehow appropriate to be tracking the growth of my kidneys,
they’re slow, but they don’t stop. Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD) is a genetic incurable,
cystic growth, that will eventually make my kidneys become so large, they fail; think thirty
pounds each. The pictures of the disease progress are cringe-worthy, usually three to four
fleshy panels, with concise arrows and notations, indicating the lifespan of the diseased
kidneys as different than the lifespan of their host. The panels remind me of even more
cringe-worthy Nazi propaganda posters I’ve seen in hanging in Berlin, morphing an average
Jewish face into the face of evil. If kidneys weren’t so cute and rounded, kept in in place by other
organs, bone and muscle, the diseased version of them, might more closely resemble that
fictionalized, sharp-edged, evil-Jew face, of my forebears.
the cancer of me. So, it’s somehow appropriate to be tracking the growth of my kidneys,
they’re slow, but they don’t stop. Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD) is a genetic incurable,
cystic growth, that will eventually make my kidneys become so large, they fail; think thirty
pounds each. The pictures of the disease progress are cringe-worthy, usually three to four
fleshy panels, with concise arrows and notations, indicating the lifespan of the diseased
kidneys as different than the lifespan of their host. The panels remind me of even more
cringe-worthy Nazi propaganda posters I’ve seen in hanging in Berlin, morphing an average
Jewish face into the face of evil. If kidneys weren’t so cute and rounded, kept in in place by other
organs, bone and muscle, the diseased version of them, might more closely resemble that
fictionalized, sharp-edged, evil-Jew face, of my forebears.
Speaking of iconic rounded pairs, a few Halloween parties ago, a dear drunk lumberjill
for the evening, kept finding me and poking my breasts, saying, “Those aren’t real.
Those can’t be real.” I was wearing a dark brown brocade corset, under a red and
white checked button-down, tied at the ‘waist’, as part of a proper Dolly Parton costume,
and my breasts were pushed up in the range of my throat, which is definitely
higher than usual. I do appreciate people who come right out about things, but lumberjill
was kind-of talking to herself, as much as to me, or anyone else within earshot.
I told her a few times that they were real, and not part of my Dolly costume, but
indeed the reason why that one feature of Dolly’s look was so easy to replicate.
She nodded, kept poking, and saying, “but, they just can’t be real.”
for the evening, kept finding me and poking my breasts, saying, “Those aren’t real.
Those can’t be real.” I was wearing a dark brown brocade corset, under a red and
white checked button-down, tied at the ‘waist’, as part of a proper Dolly Parton costume,
and my breasts were pushed up in the range of my throat, which is definitely
higher than usual. I do appreciate people who come right out about things, but lumberjill
was kind-of talking to herself, as much as to me, or anyone else within earshot.
I told her a few times that they were real, and not part of my Dolly costume, but
indeed the reason why that one feature of Dolly’s look was so easy to replicate.
She nodded, kept poking, and saying, “but, they just can’t be real.”
Kidney pain management is a consistent element of my life now, joining the
emotional pain management that my life has always been, not to mention the
breasts since puberty. Like people of different persuasions, who are really
only allowed to evoke their own persuasions, my maternal grandfather is a Polish Jew.
He married my chesty Spanish-Austrian grandmother, a spinster-nun, to escape
a Nazi filled continent, and even though my grandmother would have preferred the life of a nun,
it didn’t work out that way. Aside from being a non-practicing or identifying with, really, Jew, and descendant of a nun, I have a long list of persuasions to evoke in the story of how I came to be in need of a kidney, and in the end, a kidney thief. I didn't start out stealing kidneys, I started out stealing much smaller things like coveted library books, exquisite cheese danish and at least one of my fathers’ shriveled hearts.
emotional pain management that my life has always been, not to mention the
breasts since puberty. Like people of different persuasions, who are really
only allowed to evoke their own persuasions, my maternal grandfather is a Polish Jew.
He married my chesty Spanish-Austrian grandmother, a spinster-nun, to escape
a Nazi filled continent, and even though my grandmother would have preferred the life of a nun,
it didn’t work out that way. Aside from being a non-practicing or identifying with, really, Jew, and descendant of a nun, I have a long list of persuasions to evoke in the story of how I came to be in need of a kidney, and in the end, a kidney thief. I didn't start out stealing kidneys, I started out stealing much smaller things like coveted library books, exquisite cheese danish and at least one of my fathers’ shriveled hearts.
