shared: Mutha Magazine » MAKING BABIES: An Essay in Comics by KATE LACOUR

Mutha Magazine » MAKING BABIES: An Essay in Comics by KATE LACOUR
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But there’s another loss there, which is a kind of ego death. The limits that defined your personality are systematically eroded by meeting the needs of another person without reservation. 

I don’t see enough coverage/admission/discussion about this aspect of parenthood. It’s been unsettling.

May 21, 2015 at 10:32PM
via Mutha Magazine http://ift.tt/1Fri7mN

I’m finally in the 1%

While the number of patients with annual [drug] spending above $50,000 was just 0.2% of patients, the amount of drugs they and their health plans or employers paid for accounted for 16% of total spending…

via Drug Costs Top $50K A Year For Half Million Americans – Forbes.

yeah…one of my drugs alone (a biologic) costs about $156,000 a year.

It comes with no guarantees. It will not cure my disease. It will not save or extend my life and in fact, carries the “rare but serious” potential side effect of taking my life.

The rest of my meds are older, cheaper generics, largely prescribed to help deal with the shame of taking a drug that, in one year, costs more than my house.

More than most of the houses in the world.

Angels Unawares

I spent the morning doing the math. In sum, i spend about 80% of my time wishing I weren’t wishing I were dead. As you can imagine, one doesn’t get much concrete proof of productivity from such endeavors, despite the long hours and dedicated vision.

It just doesn’t translate. It’s hard to sell at cocktail parties. It’s easy to feel invisible.

On a Monday morning when everybody woke up crying, when I’m loading the boys into back into the car after a 1.5-hour driving nap and a trip to Aldi, in the middle of a scorching grocery parking lot on a 90º day, and a lady twice my age offers to take my shopping cart back, and I decline, since I haven’t even been able to unload the bags out yet (babies first, with air conditioning, always), and she says “Don’t worry, I’ll wait,” and she means it.

And when I say “thank you so much, that’s so kind of you to do,” and she says, “You’re doing such a great job. I’m just amazed you’re getting out to the grocery store. It’s the hardest job in the world. You do what you have to do, right? You’re such a good mom.”

That’s when I cry. Instant, ugly cry. And throw two giant bags of groceries in the back of the van, and push my cart into hers. She wouldn’t even keep my quarter. She gave me a hug.

After I blew my nose, and changed the other baby’s diaper, and put him in the carseat, and looked up to thank her again, she and her big white SUV were gone.

She might be a grandma in a handicap parking space, but man, she travels light and fast.

This is not the first time a random-act-of-kindness-lady has made me cry in a parking lot.

Not even the first time in the last 6 months.

On the one hand, that’s just fucking mortifying. But on the other hand, I got a grandma hug out of the deal, and something else to think about for a while.

Moms are legion, and they are awesome. I can’t wait to get my shit together enough to represent.

2 large shopping bags full of Aldi brand products

concrete proof of productivity

It’s been real

just passed a wreck on the interstate. Left lane, at least one car totaled, responders on the scene.

Simultaneously, saw a CBS46 news van chugging along by that same spot, and they slowed down, looked at the remains of somebody’s terrible day, and sped off.

“This is nothing new, no television crew / They don’t even put on the siren” — “Star Witness” by Neko Case