TheOriginalJada.com

Not there was ever any doubt, but after spending a full 24 hours together suffering through the most wicked case of food poisoning I have ever heard about let alone experienced, there can be no doubt that [mh] and I were made for each other. We never have been the kind to try and retain an air of mystery with the other, and we have never tried to disguise or deny that our bodies have plumbing and need flushing. He has also seen me at my most compromising and explicit and unflattering, I mean he delivered our daughter for God’s sake. But I think it all pales to the horror show of the Food Poisoning Incident of 2010. I’ll spare you the more gruesome details other than to say, I had to wash our sheets, and various items of clothing multiple times in less than 1 days time. Add to that, that Baby Girl {[BG] hereinafter} also got bit by the nasties, so we had to change baby diarrhea diapers [sorry] every 10 minutes and swath her little butt in diaper cream [which smells nauseating when you’re not already vomiting] to keep the baby butt rash at bay, and it’s amazing we survived. Our only saving grace was that The Little Man {[TLM] hereinafter} was spared, and he was incredibly helpful.

Oh, and I’m never eating Mexican food again.

I am afraid of amputations. My fear actually qualifies as a phobia if you use the definition of a phobia to be, an unreasonable sort of fear that can cause avoidance and panic. It certainly is unreasonable, as I have no expectation of having to have an amputation myself and I haven’t had any direct negative experience with an amputation or amputee. Quite the contrary really, as I have known two people rather well with amputations and have enjoyed their company once I convinced myself to relax in their presence. But unexpectedly seeing someone with an amputation does cause avoidance and panic in me. I’ll look away as quickly as I can, my heart races, my face flushes, sometimes my hands tremble or I’ll feel nauseous. The extreme, irrational reaction over seeing someone with an amputation then causes me deep shame and guilt. It’s horrible. I hate it.

The mere contemplation of the possibility of my having a limb amputated makes me twitchy and ill. Of course, the direct and undeniable loss of a limb would be devastating. But, I think the real fear originates and dwells in a different thought.

The idea that a piece of me could be removed by someone who is utterly detached from the event makes me feel like I’ve been submerged in ice water. I have problems with detachment myself and just cannot wrap my head around how someone can be intimately involved in a situation and yet completely unaffected by it emotionally. It’s just not in my constitution.

Take the surgeon who preforms amputations. Here they are cutting and sawing and tweezing away a part of your body. Then sewing, cauterizing and closing up the remains. And then they remove their surgical gown and gloves, scrub up, walk away, go home and eat a sandwich. Never to think of you again. Just another day on the job.

It’s terrifying.