It's All in Your Head

It’s All in Your Head

By

Annette Perez

“Damn I look good” Morgan smiled as she turned in front of the mirror admiring her taut muscles, massive energy glow, and her Boston Proper clothes. She had been putting 10 miles daily on the bike and working with weights and floor work for strength and flexibility. Coupled with the work, Morgan kept herself on a good diet and didn’t eat junk. She believed in showing off her hard work in a tasteful way wearing some unique yet nice clothing and shoes. And while she was a coupon clipper and very frugal, she would drop some cash on her clothes and shoes.  As far as her looks, her smile is a ray of sunshine and her eyes glimmered with contentment and happiness. Morgan’s life was almost everything she wanted. Lacking was a real relationship, deeper than friendship but not looking to get married. It is lonely for her, but she loves her dog, Gnat. She doesn’t really go out, so she hasn’t really looked for someone. Part of the problem IS her great life. Having achieved her goals, she wasn’t going to settle. She didn’t want to be some man’s baby mama and the bank of Morgan is closed. At Morgan’s age, all the good guys are married, and the rest are looking for a ride, but she isn’t going to be the vehicle. Besides, she was really happy and content at home.

Morgan had been thru a bad divorce five years ago and it really knocked her out of the groove. She became depressed, angry, and put on 25 lbs. So, looking good was her panacea, her feel better place. She had also lost her financial ass in the process, and she stayed with her brother while she recouped some cash and could move. When she walked into a room, heads turned, when she spoke people listened and everyone liked her. She is the kind of person that makes you feel better just by being near her. Even though she looked great and was great, she never got a big head or look down on people. Just the opposite if she only had 2 dollars and she’ll give you one.

Months went by and Morgan, while still a bit lonely, was cruising thru life feeling great. Then her best friend Rachel turned her on to Steve, a 6’2, 220 lbs, friend of hers. Dark hair, rippling muscles, and the bluest eyes. They were like pools of the ocean in Key West, so blue and sparkling they caused Morgan to have chills. It got hot and heavy quick, after 5 months Steve moved in. Life was now over the top. Morgan couldn’t believe it and had bruises where she kept pinching herself. Not only did she have a great guy to share her life with, but she was also jamming on her guitar at the Slippery Noodle in downtown Indianapolis.

After 6 months of bliss, things started to go wrong. Morgan, who never had headaches, was now having headaches that made her vomit. Her breasts had grown overnight, and they were leaking. What the hell? Morgan said it would pass and didn’t go to the dr. Instead, it went the other way. The headaches were getting worse, and Morgan was just plain sick. She went to a dr., who after examining her and running the generic blood test said to her “Lady, there is nothing wrong with you, it’s all in your head.” She felt like she got socked in the gut. She wasn’t crazy and this illness was taking its toll.

Steve went with her to another dr. Same answer, it’s all in your head. Steve looked at Morgan with quizzical eyes,” Are you sick, or is the dr., right?”

“You ass, you live with me, and you don’t see what’s happening under your nose. No wait, you do know I am putting on weight because you’re not so lovey dovey anymore.” Morgan snapped. “How rude and why would I lie” she muttered under her breath.

Steve raised his voice a bit “Hey, don’t get mad. It’s just that a dr. said you are ok. No, wait, 2 dr’s have told you it’s your imagination.” Steve’s mind was going a mile a minute. Trying to figure it out he realized he hadn’t known Morgan that long before he moved in and what was he supposed to think? Two Dr.'s have said she's ok, hmmmm.

“Oh, screw off,” Morgan said as she slammed the truck door. The ride home was silent and when they got home Morgan slid over to the driver’s side and took off in the truck, heading to Rachels for some support and sanity. “Come in and let’s figure this out girlfriend,” Rachel said as she took Morgan’s coat, knocking the snow off. “I have a dr. friend and I think we will go see her, but you need to eat first” Rachel had cooked breakfast while Morgan was on her way. After a quick breakfast and coffee, they headed for the car with a purpose. Morgan was still choking on her food because of the huge knot in her throat.

She was looking for the answer to her problem and people were telling her she didn’t have a problem. She felt half crazy and 100% physically ill. She had become isolated lately and Steve had been staying out later, coming home when she was asleep. All of this had taken a toll on Morgan, and she broke down in tears. Not wanting to be heard, her sobs choked her from being swallowed back, the tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin, leaving black streaks of mascara. 

Parking the truck at the hospital Rachel got out, “Come on, let’s go get your face cleaned up, you look like hell.” Entering the restroom Morgan muttered, “One more Dr. to tell me I’m crazy?” Now the illness wasn’t only affecting her body, it was laying waste to her life. She hadn’t worked out in 4 weeks because of this illness, guitar playing was now a thought, and romance was gone as far as Steve was concerned. If she didn’t have Rachel, she would truly be alone.

They went to the 3^rd floor to see Dr. Mayra Lorenzo, Nephrologist, Renal specialist. Morgan thought “A kidney specialist? Are you joking??”

“Shut up. She thinks she knows what it is and needs to run a blood test.” Rachel snapped.

“More blood? Damn chick, all of this for nothing.” Morgan retaliated.

“Just get the test.” Rachel was there to support Morgan, but she was getting tired of this mood. Morgan has never acted like this.

The Dr. had a nurse pull a tube of blood and said it would be 30 minutes, go down to the cafeteria and grab a coffee. So, they got in the elevator and Morgan looked at Rachel, “Rach, I am so sorry for being such a baby. It is hard when you know something is wrong and everyone tells you you’re crazy. Then Steve, yeh Steve just tunes out. I don’t see him much anymore. He says work but I know better. I don’t know what he does but he’s hiding from my elephant ass and leaky boobs. I am so grateful to have you in my life, thank you.” Rachel reached over and hugged her as hard as she could.

Going back upstairs they were both silently wondering what would happen next. The Dr. fetched them and invited them to a private office. “Hi Morgan, I’m Mayra Lorenzo and I do believe I can help you.” She was of Middle Eastern descent, drop-dead gorgeous, and had a warm, trusting way about her. “Morgan, you have a hormone gone rogue in your bloodstream, when that level is up without pregnancy, it usually means you have a brain tumor in your pituitary gland. This is the master gland, and a tumor makes it secrete all kinds of hormones, among other things.”

“What do you mean tumor? I’m healthy!” Morgan protested.

“You will need to see a neurosurgeon asap and get some MRI’s done as soon as possible. In the meantime, I will prescribe some steroids for you to help reduce some of the symptoms. They will make you swell a bit but will help you.” They thanked the Dr. and headed for the truck.

The ride home was silent. Morgan was remembering when she was looking good and now she was 25 lbs overweight and will be on steroids for life, so that’s going to add to her weight. She dreaded telling Steve as bad as things have been. Pulling up in front of Rachel’s, Morgan said “Thank you so much for taking me. You can come in if you’d like.”

“Thanks girlfriend. I would but I got kids to tend to. I’ll call you later.” Rachel waved from her porch, wondering what was her best friend in for and is she dying? So much has gone wrong.

Morgan headed home. When she got there Steve wasn’t around as usual. But as she approached the house, she sensed something was wrong. Opening the door, it was clear the Steve had left her, taking all his stuff and some of hers. She was so worn out she couldn’t cry but she had to do something to occupy her mind. Suddenly she burst out laughing like a mad woman; It is all in my head!!!! The irony was too much not to say that.

 But needing a distraction Morgan went to the closet. All my beautiful clothes she thought. With each piece of clothing, Morgan folded and put in the donation box another realization came to her. Picking up her Boston Proper blouse, she relished the feel of good material, and the workmanship was excellent. When she wore this her strong arms were the attraction. Running her hands down her hand embroidered jeans she asked herself if she could accept her new self. Gently pulling the fine lace off the hanger, she folded it ever so gently wondering what now? She closed the box and put it in the truck to go to the donation station. One box of self esteem and ego. Driving to the donation center Morgan had an epiphany. The question isn’t whether other people like me, the problem is whether I can like me.