"THIS MAN HAS A UTERUS!"

The above statement was actually uttered during the last volunteer orientation class I was teaching but popped into my brain today while I was reading a rather thought provoking book about Christianity. My knee jerk reaction was to laugh, but, instead, I became perplexed. Why on earth is such a statement at the same table with a delicious morsel of thought challenging me to revisit my ideas about Jesus?! And then I remembered the pain meds I took a little bit ago! Yes! I’m sedated! Now it makes sense! It only took three hours at the dentist to unhinge my TMJ issues securing me a spot in bed for the day. The dentist also did a smashing job of evacuating my savings account of a substantial amount of loot (I actually wrote evacuwaiting by accident…LOL!). I suppose if it were a word it would mean a person who does not leave when told to do so. But I digress, I find the uterus statement to be horrifically funny so decided to slice through this rather dense medically induced high and self-imposed isolation to share it with you.

Please understand in this sharing that my mind feels like a Slip and Slide slathered with jello; I thought a healthy rant, or tangent, or squirrel chasing authoric cleansing might just be enough to keep it off the ledge the rest of the day. YUP! I said AUTHORIC! Making up words is coming to me rather easily right now. The official definition of Authoric = A person who has an overwhelming compulsion to slip and slide through the mental jello of their words and invite friends, family and countrymen to come along for the ride. In my world today, because the world is revolving, rather wobbly, around me; you ALL care about this man with a uterus. How do I know? Cause you’re still reading. I shan't leave thou hanging from the Shakespearian branches of wonder over this statement any longer. WARNING! This is not as exciting as a man with gender identification issues whose dealing with phantom body part delusions. DANG IT! That would be much more interesting!!!!! We could make him John Wayne and dress him in hot pink mini skirt, oopps, hold that thought—I gotta go shave his legs. The Duke, with shaved legs, is wearing a hot pink mini skirt with a plaid (white, pink and black) flannel shirt. The shirt is tied in a knot at the waist and nicely matches his shiny black Dingo boots. He’s untying Beau (his horse not his partner) and then does a prissy walk—bum leg and all-- to the barn. No one knows of his obsession over uteruses except Beau (his partner not his horse). You didn't see that coming?! It makes it more interesting to know that John Wayne named his horse Beau when he first fell in love with Beau, but, wasn’t out of the closet yet. John and Beau met at the feed store where Beau works (the horse not the partner—John rents him out to give little kids rides). Beau (the partner not the horse) was driving by one day in his delivery truck…he works for Lovely Loo delivering portable restrooms all over the state. When Beau saw Beau he had to stop because his grandfather used to have a horse with the exact same markings on his legs. John’s heart fell out of his mini skirt (it’s complicated; no, he wasn’t out yet, but, people around the dusty town of Ambiguous, TX suspected due to John's affinity for mini skirts).  It all started when Beau’s hand (I think you know which one) brushed against John’s as he reached for Beau's (again) reins and that’s when John Wayne realized that he had waited his whole life to fall in love with Beau.  

Sorry, I got twisted around in my saddle. The REAL story of the man with the uterus. He was a simple fictitious John Doe who lived a quiet fake-life with a made-up family in a coal-mining town of Bratty Hollow Kentucky (there is no such a place). John (Doe not Wayne) was out shoot'n at some food when he started feeling bloated. His fictitious daughter, Ellie Mae, suggested he see a doctor, and, regrettably, that was when he was diagnosed with end stage uterine cancer, AND, found out he actually had a uterus. Yes my friends, a diagnostic errr may or may not have occurred in this story (not error—I’m in my Ozark dialect to pay homage to John which is harder than it looks when using words like Shakespearian, shan't and thou together in the previous paragraph). Shan't feels a bit bigender to me, like it could just as easily slip into a smoking jacket in the halls of Stratford or wrestle around in daisy dukes deep in the belly of any black lung mine in Kentucky. Hmmm, I didn’t realize bigender wasn’t a word until just now (let me add that to my Monictionary). Back to my real story. We were using John (Doe not Wayne) as an example of the kind of paperwork our volunteers would be receiving about our patients and what they were to look for. It was at this time that one of our brighter students (the politically correct way to say she has OCD) raced ahead of the class-- true to her condition-- and ran aground at John’s unfortunate uterine cancer diagnosis which prompted her to bellow out, “THIS MAN HAS A UTERUS!” The class erupted. I’m sure fictitious John (Doe not Wayne) would have had a belly laugh over that had he not succumbed to his disease last August, may John (Doe and Wayne) rest in peace.

By now you’re probably wondering WHAT drug is this woman on!! I don’t know! But if it gives me words like: Monictionary, Authoric, Evacuwaiting, Bigender and lets me shave The Duke’s legs all in the same story … IT’S SOME REALLY HIGH END STUFF!

Mona McPherson