Storytelling
CHEMICAL IMBALANCE
Natalia Harrison stood in the bathroom combing her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She turned from side to side and admired the uniform she was given the day before. A flower shirt and green pants and the famous clogs that all medical students wore. She placed her name tag on the right side of her chest. Wearing this made it all come together and seem real. Her dream of becoming a Medical Assistant was now in progress. She enrolled right out of high school and started classes immediately. Natalia was proud of the A’s she received and her brain was absorbing information and she was able to relay it without hesitation.
She grabbed her backpack and ran to the bus stop. She was excited because they were starting the lesson on the nervous system. Natalia was eager to get the new knowledge she would share with her family and friends. Even though most of them could care less and found her enthusiasm annoying.
Natalia was the first one to arrive in the classroom. She sat in the first row at the first desk directly in front of the teacher. That way she wouldn’t miss a word. She set out her 10:00 am snack because the teacher; Ms. Craig told them they had to eat something every two hours. She said this would keep their energy high and help them to stay healthy. Natalia lived by these new rules, and of course she tried to force them on anyone who would listen. She greeted every one of her classmates as they dragged themselves to a desk at the back of the room. None of them shared her excitement for being there. But they all liked her a lot and enjoyed her naiveté that always gave them comic relief.
“Good Morning Ms. Craig.” Natalia greeted her teacher loudly as she entered the classroom. She listened when Miss Craig talked about the four lobes in the brain and what each of them did and how the brain was a voluntary muscle. She jotted down her notes so fast that she had them all over the pages of her notebook. She numbered them and later she would have to put them in the correct order.  Miss Craig spoke on the receptors in the brain and how it sends messages to certain parts of the brain. Miss Craig gave them an example.
“I’m sure you know someone in your life that chose to stay with men who don’t treat them good. They complain, break up, get back together but they stay with the man.”
“I know several women like that and most of them are in my family,” said Natalia.
The classroom filled with laughter.
“Well that’s a chemical imbalance.”
“For real Ms. Craig or are you joking?” asked Natalia.
“Yes. The synapse is not connecting. There are not enough chemicals getting through to the frontal lobe.”
“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it,” said Natalia.
“Have you ever notice that a man will bring you chocolate when he has done something wrong? Well chocolate acts as a soothing medicine.”
“Or they bring you chocolates and flowers and my sisters forgive them like nothing happened,” added Natalia. “Are you for real Miss Craig about the chemical imbalance?”
“Yes Natalia.”
“Is there a cure?”
The classroom filled with laughter and they all shouted in unison, “CHOCOLATE!”
Natalia joined them but her brain didn’t shut down. She couldn’t get over the chemical imbalance. There has to be a cure and if there wasn’t she could create it. She could be rich. She could see the headlines. Natalia Harrison finds cure for chemical imbalance in women. Women are leaving their men in droves. She barely heard the rest of the lesson and what Miss Craig might have said on the chemical imbalance. She was daydreaming up a cure.
At the end of class, as Natalia raced to the bus stop she thought of all the women she heard complaining about how bad their man treated them. And how they always said they were going to leave but never do. Especially her two sisters Nora and Nelly, fraternal twins who were always crying over a man and turn right around; and love them up when the guy apologized. This cycle would repeat when the guy messed up again. She wanted to see how many people have ever heard of this. And if no one had she was going to tell them. Because she was going to be the one who created the cure.
As soon as she got into the house the motor inside her mouth revved up and started shooting out words. “Hey ma, you are not going to believe what I heard in class today. She said kissing her mother on the cheek.
Nora and Nelly just ignored her presence.
“What is it today Nat?”
“That some women like these two sitting at this table have a chemical imbalance.”
“Your daddy has a chemical imbalance,” said Nora.
“It’s called Alcoholic,” chimed in Nelly.
“Anyway Ma, it causes them to stay with a man that treats them bad.” She said crossing her eyes at her two sisters.
Nora gave her the bird and popped her upside the head.
“Stop moron,” said Nat swinging but she missed Nora.
“Yeah I know it’s called stupid,” said her mother.
“Ma, I’m serious. The reason is the synapse is not connecting so not enough chemicals are making it to the frontal lobe.”
“Girl, turn the television up. Oprah’s coming on,” her mother told her.
Natalia turned the volume louder. Ma, you’re not listening to me.” She frowned and stuck her tongue at her sisters.
“Yes I am. You said the synopsis is not connecting to the earlobe and the chemicals are not coming through it.”
The twins laughed.
“You ain’t had a man so how would you know anything about what goes on in a relationship,” said Nora.
“Yeah,” said Nelly.
“Shut up Nelly. You are always following Nora. Every time Nora says something you think you have too.”
“Oh no, she didn’t just diss you,” said Nora.
Natalia ignored her sisters, “Ma, you weren’t even listening. That’s not what I said. See let me explain it to you in simple terms.”
“Nat, tell me later after Oprah.”
“That’s all right when I come up with a cure you are going to say that’s my baby.”
“Girl stop dreaming,” said Nora.
“You’re going to tell everyone she invented the cure for a chemical imbalance.” She said leaving her mother with her favorite show, and knows it all daughters. She wondered what all the women would do once Oprah stopped coming on. She added that to her memory data bank. They would need a cure for that too. “I’ll be R-I-C-H dog!”
Natalia went into the bathroom to take a shower and then did her homework. She wrote down the notes she wrote in class in order the best she could. She hoped she had because if she didn’t it would mess up her test grade. She finished and called her best friend Portia.
“Hey girl, what are you doing?”
“Nothing special, you know the same thing I’m always doing,” answered Portia.
“You don’t sound right, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t even go into it. I’m just sick of this mess.”
“Are you and Terrell arguing again?” asked Natalia knowing what the answer would be and Portia would spill it all-out with her just asking the one question.
“Of course we are. Every time I ask him to take me somewhere he has an excuse. But let his friends asks him to go somewhere and he’s out the door. The only time he wants to do anything with me it starts and ends in the bedroom,” complained Portia.
Natalia listened because if she said anything about Terrell, Portia would then just defend him and she would be mad at Nat. So with caution she decided to tell her about what she learned in class today. “Let me tell you what I found out at school today.”
“What did you hear Nat,” said Portia sounding a bit annoyed.
“Where’s Terrell at?” asked Nat.
He’s in the bedroom doing what he does best when he’s home; sleeping.”
“Oh all right so I can tell you,” said Natalia making herself comfortable getting under the covers, and propped up her pillows. She giggled.
“You are so crazy,” said Portia.
“Are you listening?”
“You haven’t said anything Nat.”
“I know huh? All right we were studying the nervous system today. And the teacher said that some women who don’t leave their men when he’s no-good for her, they have a chemical imbalance.”
“What?”
“She said the receptors in the brain are not connecting.”
“Nat, you and your teacher are crazy.”
“It’s true Portia.”
“So you’re saying the reason I won’t leave Terrell is because there is something in my brain is not connecting?”
Nat hesitated she didn’t want to say yes outright because Portia would get angry. “Maybe,” she said instead.
“Women not leaving their men have been going on for years Nat. It’s because they love them and that’s the reason they don’t leave; not any damn chemical imbalance.”
Natalia didn’t know what to say. She grabbed a piece of hair and twisted it around her finger. “It’s medical information Portia.”
“Nat, I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”
“All right I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” said Natalia, she knew Portia was angry with her because she didn’t say bye. She just slammed down the phone. Natalia placed the phone in its cradle, turned off the lights, and thought about the conversations she had about this issue. She realized they didn’t want to hear it or they became angry. Maybe they thought she was judging them. What is so wrong with trying to help all women across the world? It would be her great contribution to planet earth. But let her come up with the cure and all the playa haters would be claiming her then. She bet they wouldn’t brush her off and get angry with her then. But as sure as there is the letter ‘u’ in the word cure they would be holding out their hands for her riches.
She decided to talk about it with Grandma Daisy. The family went for dinner there every Sunday after church. Grandma knew about any and everything.
Natalia went to class and passed her test on the nervous system. At home, she was continuously harassed by Nora and Nelly. They teased saying she was an alien or telling her she was adopted, and nicknamed her chemical imbalance.
Portia put her on the list with Terrell and their conversations were awkward.
Natalia’s Grandma Daisy didn’t get out much anymore but she could still throw down in the kitchen. Soon as they got through with greetings and settled in Nora and Nelly started making in fun of her about creating a cure. With Natalia being the youngest she took much heat for her wild imagination.
“Let the child dream,” said Grandma and she squeezed Nat to her bosom. “You want to talk about it honey?”
Natalia smiled and followed her Grandmother into the living room. Grandma still kept the plastic covering on the sofa, love seat and chair. Natalia sat down on the couch next to Grandma. She explained the chemical imbalance with the sincerity of an eighteen year old. She was passionate about her views.
Grandma Daisy smiled and nodded her head and asked, “Baby have you ever been in love?”
Natalia cocked her head to the side feeling the question was irrelevant. “Huh?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No, I don’t have time for that. I’m chasing my career. Love has to wait.”
“So you’ve never been hurt by love.”
“Grandma no I haven’t,” she said rolling her eyes and sighing.
“Be patient with me baby. I didn’t interrupt you.”
“All right already.”
“Nat, it’s hard to cure something you haven’t experience before.”
“I don’t have to experience having a man treat me like dirt, or being stood up and cheated on. I see it all the time with mommy, the twins, and my best friend Portia.”
“So you feel you know all the symptoms and can make a cure for it?” asked Grandma Daisy.
Natalia thought for a minute, “Well maybe not all of them. I will have to do more research.”
“Oh. Let me ask you this; do you think they’re crazy for staying?” asked Grandma peeking over-the-top of her glasses.
“Yes I do. It doesn’t make sense. There are good men out there.”
“You don’t think a good man could hurt you?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. Well I mean anyone can hurt the one they love.”
“Let me tell you something I know for sure. Women have done this for years.”
“That’s the same thing Portia told me.”
“Nat falling in love is easy to get into and hard to get out of. It makes you think twice about what you will and won’t do. What you use to do and what you do now. That’s one reason you hear people say ‘never say never’.”
Natalia laid her head on her grandma’s lap and stared into her eyes.
“Not all women stay. Many of them leave too.”
“Did you leave or stay Grandma?”
“I’ve done both in my lifetime, and I’ve done it a few times. Baby the cure isn’t a pill or chocolate and flowers.”
“But they do, do that chocolate and flowers stuff.”
“Yes they do and sometimes it’s because they messed up but a few of those times are out of love for that woman.”
“Are you sticking up for the guys, grandma?”
Grandma laughed, “No baby I’m giving you the truth.”
“You sure?” teased Natalia.
“Do you want me to pinch you?”
“No ma’am, continue.”
Grandma squeezed her to the bosom.
“Grandma, I can’t breathe,” muffled Nat.
“Baby the cure is this. A woman will put up with a lot of crap from her man. And he can treat her like a sick dog he passes by on the side of the street. But until she’s had enough and loves herself as much as she loves that man or more than she loves him only then will she leave.”
“Hmm,” said Nat.
“If there was a cure it would have been invented centuries ago.”
“I see. I think you stomped out my dream, just crushed it into dust.”
“I’m sorry baby.” Grandma said and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“Maybe there is something that doesn’t connect and that could encourage us to stay.”
“I thought I was going to be rich.”
Grandma grabbed her face, “You are rich with knowledge, passion and love for your fellow men and women.”
“I was talking about money.”
“That will come in time but in the mean time sharing knowledge can help another in need. Now can we go eat?”
“Yes grandma and thank you.”
“You’re welcome baby.”
Monday at school a classmate asked Natalia if she had found a cure yet. Natalia excitedly got up and went and sat next to her, “Let me tell you something I know for sure.” And she shared her knowledge past down to her from Grandma Daisy because that was the cure, until she could come up with the real cure.
The End

Little Girls











Geneva Lattimore hung up the phone after calling the G-Club, which consisted of Diane a high school friend and Mary a friend from work. She called to tell them she wasn’t going out tonight. Every weekend they picked a club to try to go get their groove on. They did this until one of them got a new man and she no longer wanted to hang out with them. The lucky one would spend all her time with her man until they broke up and then the G-Club would come back into effect.
Geneva wasn’t looking for a man. She was enjoying her freedom and thought change is good, but the partying scene was getting boring. Not every woman is looking for a man. And half of the time the men didn’t even ask you to dance anymore. They wanted you to come and ask them and they turned you down. Even the ones that only a mother could love rejected you. But since Geneva’s divorce spending time with her daughter was the highlight of her day and she wanted to do more of that.
Geneva had been promising her seven-year-old daughter Kia a sleepover so she decided to do it tonight. Diane and Mary wouldn’t have to pay a baby-sitter because their kids would be with her.
Geneva called for pizza, and she had already been to the supermarket to pick up all the goodies that kids would enjoy to have them bouncing off the walls. Kia helped set the food and placed the sleeping bags out. Her little mouth ran a mile a minute until the other princesses arrived. Jumping up and down, Kia overjoyed as Nicole, Mary’s daughter, and Diane’s daughters Sole’ and Diamond, a two-year old whose mind worked way beyond her age ran through the door.
Diane and Mary left and Geneva played Simon Says, red light, and hide-and-seek, and they played dress up with make up and her old clothes and shoes. She played with the girls until she realized she was having more fun than they were and decided to get out their way.
“Keep the noise down and I’ll be in the den reading my book.”
“Mommy can I play my music,” asked Kia.
“Sure go get your CD’s.”
Geneva laughed as she walked past Diamond who was hanging tough, “Diamond, are you tired?”
“No way auntie I’m having a great time,” answered Diamond cheesing showing all her little gapped teeth.
Geneva couldn’t get over how well Diamond spoke for a two-year-old. She kept telling Diane to have her IQ check. She may have a genius on her hand. Kia and most children were saying a few sentences or words by the age of three, but Diamond’s vocabulary was huge and she could carry a full conversation with you. “Well when you get tired let auntie know all right?”
“For sure,” she said with her hands on her hip.
Geneva left them to their play and poured herself a glass of wine and curled up on the love seat with her book. She was close enough to see and hear everything. She loved hearing them giggle and the belly laugh that made her laughed too.
“Girl all the men going to be looking at me because I dress to impress,” said Nicole.
“I heard that,” adds Sole’.
“Girlfriend, you know I’m going to drop it like it’s hot and drag it on the floor,” said Nicole.
Little Diamond dropped it and dragged it on the floor.
Kai did next and said, “You don’t have to do that, you just have to walk like it doesn’t stink,” she said and switched her butt real hard from side to side just like Geneva does.
Geneva gasped watching her daughter act like her and repeating the words she overheard. Each child was copying her mother. Geneva was shocked and didn’t know what to say. She gulped down the wine as if the liquid would loosen the words from her throat. Her skin felt hot as if she was having a hot flash but she knew it was embarrassment. For the first time in her life she felt stumped and didn’t know what to do. She knew the best thing was to stop it but she felt guilty because if it wasn’t for their parents they wouldn’t behave in this way. She grabbed her video camera and recorded them. That way their mothers could see for themselves. And they could address the situation together accordingly.
So she stood a distance and filmed them in action and they really started to act up then.
“Girlfriend, I’m bringing me a man home tonight. Me gonna love him longtime,” Said Sole’ holding her juice in her hand like a drink and a straw like a cigarette.
“Tie my shirt like mommies Sole’, tie it like mommies,” yells Diamond. Sole’ tied Diamond’s pajama top so it showed her stomach. Diamond tried to do the belly dance she’s seen on the videos.
“He better be hung low cause that’s how I like them,” yells out Sole and the rest of the girls laughed and laughed like their mother’s did.
Geneva questioned if they knew and understood what they were saying and it took everything in her not to start yelling and spanking them. Geneva heard enough when Kia said, “I don’t need no man, whatever a man can do I can do better and I know the right spot.”
“All right time for bed,” said Geneva the tears welled in her eyes.
“Mommy, why you crying?” asked Kai as Geneva cleaned the make up off all their faces. “I got soap in my eye,” she lied. “Let’s go to bed.” She tucked everyone in their sleeping bags and tried to calm herself down.  She couldn’t wait until tomorrow to show the mother’s the video. She picked up the phone and called them, demanded them to come over without an explanation.
Geneva paced the floor and stopped to pour herself another glass of wine. She heard the car pull up in front of the house. She ran and opened the door. “Shhh! The girls are sleeping go upstairs,” she said.
“What’s going on?” asked Mary her eyes open wide and expecting the worse.
“Are the kids hurt?” asked Diane her bag clutched tight in her hand.
“Just go upstairs and I’ll tell you everything.” She said pushing them up the stairs.
“Girl if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” said Diane.
“I am, just sit down.” Geneva pressed play on the VCR.
“You made us come home for a video? Do you know I might have left Mr. Right back there?” asked Diane.
“This is more important,” snapped Geneva, “Just watch.”
“Girl, don’t tell me one of them fools I had sex with recorded it and I’m on this video,” said Diane.
Geneva sucked her teeth and pointed to the television.
They sat quietly as the images of the girls came onto the screen.
“What the hell?” asked Diane confusion distorting her facial features.
“Just watch Diane,” demanded Geneva.
It still bothered Geneva that she didn’t know what to say to the girls earlier. But it didn’t take a fool to realize the children were watching and listening to the conversations going on around them. The parents may think their children are engrossed in whatever they’re playing, watching or doing but they are absorbing their atmosphere. Everything she heard them say were the words and actions that she, Diane and Mary did. Even though they’re grown and can do what they want the truth is they impressed their daughters with the wrong morals, and information. Her eyes filled with tears. And for the first time she couldn’t blame the videos or the music for bad examples. The bad examples were the parents.”
At first Mary and Diane laughed and then it came to an abrupt halt.
Geneva watched each mother’s expression on their faces as they watched the actions their daughters were doing.
Sole’ and Diamond’s mother Diane looked as if she was going to explode. “Sole’ and Diamond come here right now!” she yelled.
“Diane they’re sleeping. Stop it,” whispered Geneva.
“No, I’m going to beat their butts.”
“Diane it’s our fault. You can’t beat them for copying us.”
“I’m grown Geneva, and they do as I say and not as I do.”
“I know that but look at the examples we have set for them.”
“She’s got a point there Diane,” said Nicole’s mom, Mary. “I’m shocked and I agree with both of you, but those are the words they heard us say, and that’s how we act.”
“But we are grown and they’re children,” said Diane tapping her foot with anger.
“That’s true Diane,” said Geneva sitting next to her, “but they are copying us and if anyone needs a beating it’s us.”
“Well you can do whatever you want with Kia, but Sole’ and Diamond is getting a beat down.”
“Diane let’s just all have a talk with them and explain that, that’s not how they should behave.”
“I am not explaining my actions to Sole and Diamond, they’re children Geneva.”
Geneva sighed and looked at Mary. The guilt was heavy on her chest and she didn’t want to have the children get a beating, a talking too; yes, but a beating for acting out what they may not understand...no way.
“Diane, Geneva is right. If we didn’t behave that way they wouldn’t have that behavior to copy. When it boils down to it, it’s our fault,” said Mary.
“And the moral of the story is; we need to check ourselves,” said Geneva.
Diane sat quietly and then busted out laughing, “That’s bad.”
Geneva and Mary both stared at her.
“What is bad?” Asked Geneva.
“This, this video, I think I’m more embarrassed than I am angry,” admitted Diane.
“I can actually say I’m speechless,” added Mary. “And that’s hard to do.
“We know,” laughed Geneva.
“I don’t even know what to say,” said Diane shaking her head. “Did you hear what they said?”
“Well we know we have to talk to them and let them know that, that behavior is unacceptable,” said Mary.
“True,” agreed Geneva, “but it’s unacceptable for us too, because if it wasn’t for us they wouldn’t have picked it up in the first place.”
“So what are we going to do?” asked Mary.
“Well, tomorrow morning after breakfast we can just talk to them about it,” Suggested Geneva.
“Man I can’t believe we are going through this. I am not gonna lie. I am embarrassed and guilty and ashamed of myself. You know what I mean? We sit up here and talk about other people’s children and we are just as bad,” said Mary.
“You think you’re embarrassed did you hear what my daughters said?” asked Diane she put her head in her hands and shook her head.
Mary laughed, “Yeah she had you down packed.”
“Gee thanks Mary for cheering me up and making me feel better.”
“We need to get rid of that tape,” said Mary.
“No,” said Geneva, “We need to always keep it so we don’t make the same mistake again.”
“No we don’t,” said Diane, “What if someone sees it.”
“I’ll put it in a safe place. So we need to get some rest because tomorrow is a big day.”
“I guess,” said Mary, “Where am I sleeping in Kia’s room?”
“Yeah both of you can sleep in there on the bunk beds since the kids are downstairs.”
“I got the bottom,” said Mary leaving the room.
“How the hell am I going to get on that top bunk?” asked Diane.
“Hey,” yells Geneva, “Let’s make a promise to one another that we will behave and watch what we say in front of our daughters.”
“Promise,” said Mary.
“Promise,” said Diane, “I think I’m going to need a drink. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“You just don’t want to deal with it. Just take your butt to sleep,” laughed Geneva. She turned off the light and prayed for guidance for them all because of the little girls the mothers were taught a lesson.
The End


Smokecology
Article published on YMIB.com October 2006
I started smoking at the age of twelve in the schoolyard with my peers. It took at least three weeks and I was addicted, and of course I couldn’t afford my first bad habit. So I depended on my friends and stole a few cigarettes when I could. I couldn’t understand what the withdrawals were but I knew a cigarette would fix it.

I remember one day my mother sent me to ask the neighbor who lived on the first floor for a cigarette. He asked me why I didn’t give her one of mine. My face froze and the fear of my mother finding out set in. He never told her, but I ended confessing to her like the foolish child I was. Whenever fear entered the equation I would blurt out the truth without being asked. I received a cussing out and a down-home butt whooping, but my addiction was bigger than my fear and I continued to sneak to smoke. My intake of nicotine increased and it became impossible to see me without a cigarette attaching my hand to my mouth. I loved smoking. It was my best friend. I could always count on them cigarettes to be there whenever I was in need.

At the age of seventeen my left lung collapsed. To this day I have no idea what caused it. The pain was unbearable and my mother rushed me to the hospital where I was given a Pneumothorax (a tube in the chest to inflate the lungs). After weeks in the hospital I was smoke free, but I started stealing cigarettes from my brother and smoking out my bedroom window. I was caught and started smoking full-time again.

Now and then I was told to stop smoking or I smoked too much, but it went through my ears like a blast of cold air that disappears when you quickly open a door. About nine months later my right lung started to ache. I was afraid to tell anyone, but afraid to ignore it because I didn’t want another tube inserted into my chest.

I went to see the doctor and he told me I had a cyst on my right lung. The surgery was set and I spent weeks in the hospital during the blizzard of 1978. I returned home and tried to stay away from cigarettes, and I did for a little while. But it took just one puff and I was back in full action.

As time went on my habit increase to a pack and half a day, I smoked a cigarette every fifteen to twenty minutes. My husband called me the chimney. My house smelled of cigarettes as if it was an air freshener.

Oh, I forgot to mention I lost both my mother and sister to breast and lymphoid cancer. So I knew better but my addiction was a zillion times bigger than my willpower. I was also afraid of the withdrawals. I would lose control of myself so I could sympathize with a junkie even though what we were doing to our bodies was worse than we could ever imagine.

It was the summer of 1993 and we were having a cookout. I decided I would play volleyball with the kids. I became so exhausted and couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t catch or slow down my breathing. I knew something was wrong. The pain of my lung collapsing danced in my head. My body was shouting at me, I could hear it, but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to claim it. I knew what it was, but I was only thirty two and half-heartily thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Not me!

The next day I went alone to the emergency room. They asked all kinds of questions like did I have Asthma and gave me a breathing treatment that cleared my lungs, and my chest no longer felt like it was being squeezed by a vice grip. An x-ray was taken and the doctor came and told me the results. I seen his lips moving, but there was no sound. I just smiled at him, and he stared at me. I smiled whenever I was nervous or scared but I knew he didn’t know that so he must have thought I was simple. He left and the nurse came in. She passed me the diagnosis of my test. I couldn’t understand what the doctor wrote. I guess every part of me went straight into denial. One thing I knew was I needed a cigarette. Anyways, I asked her what it said, and she answered Emphysema and it’s severe. I responded Oh! She looked at me her eyes filled with pity for me. I smiled. I needed to get out of there.

I stood at the bus stop and lit a cigarette; I’ve been doing it so long, it was my comfort and now my enemy. I felt so stupid but anyone of you knows if you smoke you can’t just throw the cigarettes away. Well maybe some of you can. I couldn’t. I rode on the bus in a daze. I didn’t know how to feel. I told my family but I guess it just didn’t penetrate because we didn’t discuss it anymore. I accepted having the disease, but quitting smoking was still a huge challenge. I would quit for months at a time and start again. Several years of this back and forth went on. My husband, God bless him because I put him through hell, because he stayed on me and he really wanted to see me succeed.

Then the agony of being short of breath kicked in. Emphysema is a slow progressing disease so that’s why it took years to start showing its face.

That’s when all the medications started coming in: Albuterol, Advair, Singulair, Flonase, Asterlin, Spiriva, and the Oxygen that I fought against until I had to take it. So now I have a concentrator, portable oxygen tanks and a big one that sits in my bathroom just in case the power goes out. I have to use the oxygen when I’m sleeping, upon exertion, and whenever I leave the house. It’s not a twenty four hour thing but it was hard for me to get use to. I am air sensitive and that means one minute my nose is running and the next minute it’s dry from the oxygen so my nose gets sore.

Time went on and I live my life as normal as I can, and there are many things I can no longer do. It took a longtime for me to forgive myself, and at times I’m not sure I have. I have been smoke-free for six years but when I have bad days I can still beat-up on myself because of what I did to put myself through all of this. I am now forty-five with lungs like a seventy or eighty year old man with the same disease. That’s what the doctors tell me, and that I need a lung transplant. But that’s a whole other story.

Lately I’ve been getting sick with Pneumonia and have spots on my lungs that have me dealing with test that make me want to run and hide. No matter how many times I say this is going to help me, and they’re only helping me, IT HURTS LIKE HELL!

I had a Broncoscopy and that’s when they stick a tube down your throat and fill you up with saline and take cultures. When I woke up I sounded like a coffee percolator every time I inhaled.

I recently had a chest biopsy and there was a risk that my lung could collapse. I began to cry as soon as they rolled me into the room. Remember I have already experience a collapsed lung. I knew the pain; I knew the procedure. Now when I cry I can’t breathe, and then my nose starts to run with the oxygen on; I was miserable. I prayed the test would go well and quick. I couldn’t stop crying and they weren’t going to put me asleep. I braced myself for the first shot of Novocain, but nothing could prepare me for the pressure of the needle that was going in my chest. The pressure made me want to jump up and run and if my lung collapsed oh well. Can you imagine that? But I laid still and he would push the needle in, take a picture, and push the needle in. Each I time I was moved in to the CT scan I panicked and I had to hold my breath so it was difficult. He finally cut the pieces he need for the Pathologist and removed the needle. I calmed down but I’m a crier and if I didn’t get it out, every time someone said something I would tear up. It took forty-five minutes for the whole procedure but it seemed like hours to me. My doctor told me it went well and he didn’t think my lung would collapse. I was happy, in pain but happy.

I was rolled back to the room and my crying session was over. As soon as we reached the door I felt extreme pain shoot through my left lung. I started coughing. I heard a pop and felt it too. MY LUNG COLLAPSED. However the leakage wasn’t enough to have a tube inserted. Thank God! The test came back negative and I am forever grateful for the prayers, and God wrapping me up in his love.

My reason for telling you this is because I don’t want you to put on my shoes and walk down the same path. Emphysema is like A.I.D.S and Cancer they don’t discriminate. If you were to see me in person you would think everything I told you was a lie. But it lives in the body and it’s quiet but it progresses and you won’t know it’s there until it starts revealing its self.

I hope reading my story will convince you to stop, or never start. Smoking is dangerous to your health.