Butterfly Cauldron
Friday, July 14, 2006
Digital boobie pictures
No, ya freaks. I'm not posting any. I did have some taken, however.
I had my first mammogram today. Whoohoo.
At 31, I'm rather young to be getting my boobs squished and radiated, but three months of breast pain and a squishy lump sent me off to have my lovelies photographed. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, but it wasn't nearly as painful as I'd been lead to believe. Now, I simply have to wait for the results. Well, the results of the mammo and the blood work I got done Wednesday. On Tuesday, my doctor found protein in my urine, which is a not good thing, particularly when you've got Lupus. So, I'm waiting to find out if my kidneys are starting to screw up. In a way, it's kinda funny. I'm not sure which test should concern me most. Lumpy breasts or screwy kidneys? Where's a girl to put her focus? Either one could kill me, but neither likely will.
Anyway, while I was in the waiting room today the hospital had CNN on. And they were doing a report on the fighting going on in Israel and Lebanon. And the receptionist, a older Pentecostal lady, starts talking about how people should know better than to mess with Israel because that will only bring Jesus back faster. And everyone else in the waiting room, except me, started nodding and agreeing and going on and on about how sacred Israel is and how this is a sign of the end of the world and....I just kept thinking, "Shouldn't mess with Israel? How about we not mess with anyone? How about no one fire weapons at anyone else because it's wrong not because "God" said not to? How about we stop holding on to superstitious beliefs and start valuing people just because they're, oh I don't know, people? How about we stop holding some people to a set of standards because they're "chosen" and other people to another set because they're "condemned"?"
I realize I live in the middle of Jesusland, but...why do people insist on relating everything to their version of Christianity? It's terribly self-centered and small-minded. I remember growing up and talking to my mother about what I wanted to do when I grew up. I had lots of ideas and she never discouraged any of them. But she always said things like "Well, God could use a Christian lawyer." or "There's a need for good Christian journalists." Everything was qualified by being Christian. What, I couldn't just be a lawyer (didn't go that route, btw)? Or a reporter? Or an artist? Or a street sweeper? It wasn't good enough for me to do what I wanted with my life, I had to be following Gods' Plan (TM).
I wonder sometimes if my parents know how much they contributed to my resenting pretty much all things "Christian". (I say that because I've finally gotten to the point in my life where I can set the true Christian teachings/beliefs apart from this pseudo-Paulism that masquarades as Christian these days.) I wonder if they know how much their insisting I go to church twice on Sundays and once on Wednesdays, every god-blessed week made me run, run, run far from church as soon as I got to college? I wonder if they know how uncomfortable and unhappy I was being compelled to go to church camp every summer, Youth Rallies every month, youth activities all the time? And I wonder if it would have mattered if they did. Because there's this strain of thought in fundy churches that, if you're uncomfortable, it's because the Holy Spirit is working on you to get saved. Instead of, oh, I don't know, you like to think for yourself. Or you don't like being in crowds or about lots of people or that you feel religious faith is a personal, private, not-for-public consumption affair?
When I had surgery in May, my mother asked me, before I went into the operating room, if I knew I'd go to heaven if I died on the table? Now, I believe I will. Or, well, I believe in the continuation of the soul in some form and I believe in a Goddess that loves me. So I could honestly answer yes. But if she knew why I could answer yes, she'd have been worried the whole time I was under. And I don't want her to worry, because I'm not worried. And if I'm not worried, why should she? I'd like to live in a world where conflict in another country, which is killing hundreds if not thousands, would be seen as something worthy of concern in it's own right. I'd like to live in a society where other people's pain is not important only in so much as it relates to your belief in a coming judgment. I'd like to live in a place where it wouldn't matter what a person believes, or what they don't believe, where people are valued for simple being. But I don't. I live in Jesusland, where everything centers around being "Christian" and anything or anyone that doesn't live up to that set of standards is either less-than or, usually, inconceivable.
I had my first mammogram today. Whoohoo.
At 31, I'm rather young to be getting my boobs squished and radiated, but three months of breast pain and a squishy lump sent me off to have my lovelies photographed. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, but it wasn't nearly as painful as I'd been lead to believe. Now, I simply have to wait for the results. Well, the results of the mammo and the blood work I got done Wednesday. On Tuesday, my doctor found protein in my urine, which is a not good thing, particularly when you've got Lupus. So, I'm waiting to find out if my kidneys are starting to screw up. In a way, it's kinda funny. I'm not sure which test should concern me most. Lumpy breasts or screwy kidneys? Where's a girl to put her focus? Either one could kill me, but neither likely will.
Anyway, while I was in the waiting room today the hospital had CNN on. And they were doing a report on the fighting going on in Israel and Lebanon. And the receptionist, a older Pentecostal lady, starts talking about how people should know better than to mess with Israel because that will only bring Jesus back faster. And everyone else in the waiting room, except me, started nodding and agreeing and going on and on about how sacred Israel is and how this is a sign of the end of the world and....I just kept thinking, "Shouldn't mess with Israel? How about we not mess with anyone? How about no one fire weapons at anyone else because it's wrong not because "God" said not to? How about we stop holding on to superstitious beliefs and start valuing people just because they're, oh I don't know, people? How about we stop holding some people to a set of standards because they're "chosen" and other people to another set because they're "condemned"?"
I realize I live in the middle of Jesusland, but...why do people insist on relating everything to their version of Christianity? It's terribly self-centered and small-minded. I remember growing up and talking to my mother about what I wanted to do when I grew up. I had lots of ideas and she never discouraged any of them. But she always said things like "Well, God could use a Christian lawyer." or "There's a need for good Christian journalists." Everything was qualified by being Christian. What, I couldn't just be a lawyer (didn't go that route, btw)? Or a reporter? Or an artist? Or a street sweeper? It wasn't good enough for me to do what I wanted with my life, I had to be following Gods' Plan (TM).
I wonder sometimes if my parents know how much they contributed to my resenting pretty much all things "Christian". (I say that because I've finally gotten to the point in my life where I can set the true Christian teachings/beliefs apart from this pseudo-Paulism that masquarades as Christian these days.) I wonder if they know how much their insisting I go to church twice on Sundays and once on Wednesdays, every god-blessed week made me run, run, run far from church as soon as I got to college? I wonder if they know how uncomfortable and unhappy I was being compelled to go to church camp every summer, Youth Rallies every month, youth activities all the time? And I wonder if it would have mattered if they did. Because there's this strain of thought in fundy churches that, if you're uncomfortable, it's because the Holy Spirit is working on you to get saved. Instead of, oh, I don't know, you like to think for yourself. Or you don't like being in crowds or about lots of people or that you feel religious faith is a personal, private, not-for-public consumption affair?
When I had surgery in May, my mother asked me, before I went into the operating room, if I knew I'd go to heaven if I died on the table? Now, I believe I will. Or, well, I believe in the continuation of the soul in some form and I believe in a Goddess that loves me. So I could honestly answer yes. But if she knew why I could answer yes, she'd have been worried the whole time I was under. And I don't want her to worry, because I'm not worried. And if I'm not worried, why should she? I'd like to live in a world where conflict in another country, which is killing hundreds if not thousands, would be seen as something worthy of concern in it's own right. I'd like to live in a society where other people's pain is not important only in so much as it relates to your belief in a coming judgment. I'd like to live in a place where it wouldn't matter what a person believes, or what they don't believe, where people are valued for simple being. But I don't. I live in Jesusland, where everything centers around being "Christian" and anything or anyone that doesn't live up to that set of standards is either less-than or, usually, inconceivable.
Labels: fundies, medical care, war
2 Comments:
Zan, It puzzles me how the people who try to live like Jesus lived haved allowed the fundies to capture the word Christian. When they say it, they mean people as narrow minded and full of hatred as they are, and the people I would consider Christian are not like that at all. But, hey, what does a heathen know?
Frankly, I've got more faith in the heathens among us to do the right thing, for the right reasons, than I do most so called Christians.
I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. The truth is, most people in those particular faiths have never known anything else. It's a very isolating existance, reinforced by the sheer number of times services are held. So, if someone does meet someone of a different faith or no faith that affects them and makes them start to think, it's immediately quashed at the next Sunday, Wednesday, whenever service. And the church does a great deal for it's members. So, it's very hard for them to truely see outside of their very narrow world. And I believe many of them general do care about the "Lost".
But there comes a point when my willingness to cut people slack ends. I'm finding it increasingly hard to not speak up when my family starts going on and on and on about the end of the world and Jesus coming back and how can anyone be homo/bisexual? (because they don't know I'm bi. That'd be a laugh riot, let me tell you.) and the Bible is literal and inerrant but we've never really read it in any depth so we don't know what we're actually saying...I tend to keep quiet because I don't want the strife in my family. But I don't know...
Exactly how many wars did Jesus start? How many 'sinners' did he condemn to hell? How many people did he turn away? How much money did he amass? How many governments did he take over? I see to remember that he was the illegitmate son of a teenage mother, part of a blended family, an unemployed 30-something that hung out with a gang of not-so-savory characters who was executed for what amounted to treason. And given that he seemed to be none too fond of the ladies, he may well have been a fag. I don't remember him supporting his local politions or religious leaders or following the rules. I think he broke most of them, because they were wrong. I think he was poor and homeless, depending on the kindess of strangers. I think he warned specifically against divorce, hypocrisy and judging others. But you know, I could be reading it wrong...*sigh*
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