Amy Smith

We move the couch a little more and the mouse takes off to hide behind the recliner. I, the woman lauded for her bravery, proceed to scream, turn tail, and run out of the room, hurtling over the 6 foot banquet table we had propped against a doorway to block off the mouse’s escape. I even get the mouse into the box but then scream before Jason can pick it up, and our little intruder make another run for it. The hockey stick gets caught up in the doormat right before Jason can shoot the mouse out into the backyard, and I realize that my bladder is full and have to crouch down so as not to have an accident.

He’s a natural stay-at-home defenseman, aware of his positioning on the ice, instinctively protecting his goalie, able to block shots, and not afraid to battle it out in the corners. He had been considering trying out as a full-time goalie for the upcoming season, and the thought of playing in goal on the Wells Fargo ice animated him. Maybe some of my teammates are better goalies than me because, when I’m on the ice, I’m a better defenseman than they are. I don’t mind doing the work, but if someone else is already good at it, I should keep working on what I’m good at.

I’m tired of baring my chest for medical professionals, and I’m tired of trying to fix and modify what I have while being reminded of what I have lost. I’m tired of comparing myself to standards that I can never attain. I’m tired of blaming myself for things that are out of my control, and I’m tired of wearing a fake brave face on days when I don’t feel brave. I’m going to be a woman, because it might be that I finally have room inside of me to be one.

Activities that once brought me joy and amusement were stressful and difficult; my hands didn’t move the same way, I couldn’t recall the mechanics of familiar melodies, and my thoughts were disjointed and disorganized. I took a few free online college courses, read some challenging classical literature, and took up crossword puzzles. Maybe the mandolin doesn’t seem like a major challenge, but it is strung differently and I’m interested in playing a classical style. When my parents delivered the mandolin to me, they also brought a sturdy, protective case.