[Roxie Writes]

I got the call today that I have been approved for Egrifta!  I should be getting a call from the pharmacy tomorrow to discuss delivery, and I’ll have to go see my nurse to learn how to reconstitute the medication and inject myself.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to start it soon.

Just so long as they don’t take it all back like they did last time I was supposedly approved.  I asked the case worker about it and he assured me that I had nothing to worry about, so we’ll see.  I guess my doctor’s letter of medical necessity finally got through to them.

I feel very petty and kind of like a bad person, but if I can get my body back (even mostly back) I will be the happiest I’ve ever been.  This lipodystrophy shit has been absolute hell.

Oh, and I found this article that really nailed it with how lipodystrophy feels in its title: EGRIFTA: ERASING THE SCARLET LETTER OF HIV.  Scarlet Letter.  Exactly.

Both of my parents died this month.  Mom at the beginning.  Dad at the end.

Three years apart, but both in February, so it’s always a rather depressing time for me.  

I don’t really like to be one of those people that insists a single day/week/month sucks simply because something crappy happened to you on that date, several years ago, but my parents losing their battles to AIDS when I was 7 and 10 years old has had the greatest impact on the person I am today over any other events in my life.  Thus, this month has some awful super power that no matter how much I resist, consistently makes me feel like shit - dredging up all sorts of “what ifs”, “why mes?”, and “what fors?”.  

At least it’s the shortest month of the year… 

Today, February 2, marks 20 years since my mother died.  Twenty-freaking-years.  In some ways it seems even longer than that and in others it feels like it just happened yesterday.  

The absence of my mother has certainly changed me at the very core of my being, in mostly bad ways, but I’d like to think there’s a few good ways in there too.  Like, I am strong, mostly thick skinned, and unafraid to tackle life on my own - because I’ve always had to.  But then again, I’m the extremely weak for that same reason, so maybe there are no good things that have came from losing her.

Mostly though, I have a gaping hole inside of me that can only be filled with her.  Obviously, that is never going to happen, but it’s another one of those things that I can’t change, no matter how much I want to, just like the February Effect.

I often think about the person I would be if I had been raised by her, and if I still had her in my life.  I would probably be a softer, more loving, more maternal, less jaded person.  I know I’ll never know for sure, but that question is yet another uncontrollable thing, just like the February Effect.

So yeah, I hate you February.  I’m sorry darlin’, I know you’re just a month on our calendar, and that you never asked to be the one my parents died in, but I can’t help but hold it against you.  And I have no choice but to struggle through you, for 28/29 days, until I can come out fresh again in March.

I miss you, Momma.  I miss you, Daddy.  Forever and always.  <3

Yes, my dream of becoming a successful author is a lofty one, but is that not the point of ambition after all - to set your sights high, to hope, and to work hard towards the impossible?

Sure, most likely, I will not land where I’m shooting, but what is life for if not for following our dreams?

I refuse to let the negativity or doubts of anyone else get in my way. If we all gave up so easily we’d still be living in the dark ages.

So, whether or not I become a literary legacy, I at least shall know that I worked my absolute hardest, and never, ever waved a white towel in defeat.