Moon Memo: Reunion, Remember, Health.
Good morning from the black book, the super light laptop with the clicky keyboard that I've had to reformat 2 times since purchasing. I don't blame Linux. I blame my "too tech minded for her own good" self. Puttering behind the scenes is probably not best practice for getting a writing only computer set up. But here we are.
Three things this week: a reunion, a remembering, and a health update. Good times here in Moon Memo land, where the air is thick with the ghost of smoke and heat.
A Reunion
She is one of the sad girls. We met on the Discord server, became friendly, are always happy to see each other. She is beautiful and silly. She loves cats (she found a stray in the neighborhood, and contacted me because I work at the Humane Society now, can I help with this beautiful girl, I don't want her to get killed). She is sexual and pretty. Like many trans girls, I've seen various amounts of her naked (because we share our bodies with each other. That's part of being us.).
She invited me to her house warming party. I sat in her new living room, and she made me feel welcome. Her friends from college were there, looking strangely familiar but not familiar enough to raise alarms. And then I brought up that I was a recovering quaker, and she said "did you go to George Fox University? You didn't happen to attend a poetry class after you graduated with Bill Jolliff, did you?" And it became clear that we knew each other, in the old life. In the beard times. In the sad times. In the pre-divorce times. In the Before We Broke Our Lives Apart times.
What a wonder this life is. We have been in the same room together multiple times. We have laughed together, sung together, cried together, called each other beautiful together. And we had no idea that we had a whole shared history together. Wrote poems together. Drank coffee together. Talked about marriage together. Played music together (she sold me a bass amp, in the before times).
What a gift to be able to meet each other now, happier, a little messy, a little older but looking years younger. What a treasure to share in this magic of estrogen and surgery and alchemy, apostates to a world that felt inescapable.
We are getting coffee later this week to talk about our dead years. I can't wait.
I'm so glad she survived, and is thriving, and is beautiful and is herself. I'm so glad to be here too.
Remember
Grief appears without any warning sometimes. Today we have a new staff member named Grey. And I put them in a bunch of classes. And I realized I had tears running down my face.
She's been dead for 9 months now. When I was a kid I thought that the dead became babies, that the moment they died they ended up in a womb. So she is about to be reborn, I guess.
Yesterday was her birthday. If she hadn't died I would have sent her a text I send to everyone: I'm glad that you were born. I'm glad that you are alive. I hope that you thrive.
And I can't send it.
Health Update
"I'm here to see about these marks on my leg," I said to the doctor.
"Your bloodpressure is very high. Let's work on that first. Have you been dizzy a lot?"
"Yes. Like, every day."
"Any headaches?"
"Only when I'm stressed, and it's been a stressful year."
"Electrocardiogram. New meds. Less salt. I'm so glad you came in when you did. It's manageable, but it wouldn't be for much longer."
So yeah. All these bad days lately. Blood pressure.
I fainted at work a few weeks ago. Didn't tell anyone. I almost passed out after an orgasm a month ago. Didn't tell anyone. It took the doctor ignoring me and looking at the chart for me to find out.
So yeah. I have high blood pressure. I should know more in a few weeks time. The meds seem to be helping a lot. I don't feel horrible all the time anymore. So there you go.
I'm heading into the maintenance years. If I am going to stay alive until I'm 83, I'm going to have to start changing my diet and take meds and take better care of myself.
Of course I do. I'm middle age. I've got work to do.
Outro
Today I have my meeting to get my WPATH letter. For those that don't know, that means proving that I'm worthy to have gender affirming surgeries. Every time I've been set to have a meeting something has happened. But I guess we are at that time now. I'm finally getting to enter my own surgery season. We'll see if anything comes of it.
I love you all so much. Thank you for sticking with me during this year. It's been a hard one. I'm glad to be alive. I'm trying to thrive.
Love and stuff,
Misha Lynn Moon