Crotch Talk

So many ways to say vagina

HELLO LOVE THUGS! Just a brief note to share a video from our first show over at WHAM! BAM! THANK YOU! SLAM! from this last Saturday afternoon.

This was especially meaningful for me as it was my first time telling a story “live” (it helped that the audience was virtual) since 2018. I assumed this part of my life was over with my Parkinson’s diagnosis that same year. It’s been a most difficult eight years on many levels. It would have been too much to commit to even telling a story before I had Deep Brain Stimulation, a surgical procedure I had done in June of this year. To think I not only told this story but managed to go back to work and perform other leaving the house type of activities as well as partnering with Nan Tepper to build our WHAM! BAM! baby since I had my brain electrified is a staggering accomplishment.

(Awkwardly pats own back for a brief moment, cut short by rotator cuff pain)

We learned so much from our first show and made major changes to the entire model of the show going forward; changes we’re excited about and that Nan explains in detail in this post. The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive and we are eager to continue to evolve.

The story slam is not only a much needed creative outlet for me but it is also an eye opening experiment in collaboration. I generally write for myself and by myself; I’ve never felt the desire to put together words via committee. Nan does the vast majority of the work as her skill set and availability are more suited for doing most of the work involved. I not only have to put on my stewardess costume on the regular to keep the lights on, but my cognitive abilities have hard limits post-brain surgery. Being on the computer burns out my thinking cap in a matter of hours. I have issues doing many tasks at once and I am hard on myself when I can’t keep up. It is brutal to see your 100% seemingly not add up to much. I told Nan after the show that I felt like she truly didn’t need me.

But after we both had slept and thought it over for a bit, we did what wise women do. We had several honest talks and got back to figuring out what worked and celebrating that as well as identifying what didn’t and changing it. It didn’t matter whose idea wasn’t as well received. All the components to improve the show were present and the good, the bad, and the ugly were stripped of their ego-crushing power. It was all simply information for us to use and move forward.

Nan has always been insistent that my health should be a priority and we tailor the work around my schedule and my energy levels. I am most grateful for her always checking in on how much gas I have left in the tank. It’s a reminder to me that no matter how I hard I push, I’m always subject to brain-related burnout.

The first year after DBS is the most challenging, the brain is still healing and adjusting to the electrical stimulation. DBS helps with motor fluctuations but it doesn’t help with fatigue, autonomic issues, cognitive load limits, or stress sensitivity. Or political insanity, seasonal depression, or the overwhelming desire to substitute Black Cherry ZZZQuil for Campari in all your cocktails (mmm, so sleepy!)

In recovery circles, they warn against making big moves when you’re hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. The acronym spells out its own warning: HALT! I haven’t felt lonely in years (thank you, high quality friendships and self esteem!) but I will admit that I am constantly managing the other three no matter how recently I ate, slept, or paid attention to the news. This state of being makes decision making complicated.

I’ve also been binge watching “The Pitt” and one scene stuck with me. After Dana, the crusty charge nurse, gets sucker-punched by a disgruntled patient while smoking a cig, she goes back to work. She is insistent that everyone not make a fuss as it will happen again. When the staff discusses the uptick in violence towards medical staff in recent years, Dana replies, “The world is a much angrier place now.”

That’s really it. Those who think and feel exist at a strong simmer, ready to boil over at any time. Those sucked up in the MAGA cult wear their anger like a cloak of invincibility. We are all angry about different things, but one can sense the undercurrent of rage below the surface. On my last overnight at work, I found myself in a mall where most of the stores were abandoned. There was an AMC theater and a few arty shops with no customers. I waited while a Thai restaurant put together my $26 to-go order of chicken with vegetables and white rice. No smiles, no thank you, just here’s the bag.

But I ate the food and thought I’m damn lucky I can afford a $26 lunch. Would I have been happier if the mall was screaming with humanity? No. I liked the quiet, even if it bordered on dismal. And sometimes I have no smiles and no thanks to give out as well. A lesson in accepting things as they are, not how I’d like them to be. Time to name it and reframe it.

I said this would be a brief note and that is quickly becoming a lie. TTFN, Thugs of Love.

Tickets are on sale our February slam, The Love Boat. It’s an alt-Valentine’s Day event. Ticketing and Zoom registration, streamlined for ease.