Most people want to keep their body parts; most people shudder at the thought of surgery. Some people like to remove and replace parts, teeth, boobs, livers, kidneys, and there are thousands of people that get Botox injections in an effort remain younger looking. Not my ex, if she could get it pulled, cut or removed that’s what she did. She also had a nasty habit of self-diagnosing, and shelf prescribing.
When we first meet she had all of her parts, was relatively thin, I guess it depends on your relative. Over time, as the family grew, so did she. In fact, she doubled in size, well more than doubled. In the beginning, if she could be believed, Donna weighed in at 120 lbs; twenty-eight years later she weighed a whopping 285llb. The cows, chicken, fish, and Reese’s Peanut Butter cups that gave their lives is beyond belief.
I remember my first encounter with her removal fascination. It was shortly after we were married. Donna started complaining, and in reality never stopped, about a toothache. Again, most people might get Ambersol, or some similar product, then if that failed go see the dentist to get the tooth fixed. Not Donna McMurry, hell no.
Between sitting on the couch eating peanut M & M’s and drinking Kool Aid, and talking to her family on the phone, she had no time for the normal course of action, such as brushing her teeth for one.
“My tooth hurts.”
“Did you take anything?”
“No that’s a waste of time.”
“Oh. So you called the dentist?”
“Ok. He going to fill it?”
“No that’s a waste of time.”
“Huh? Then why are you going?”
“To get it pulled?”
“No one can see it, besides they’ll all come out eventually.”
And so it started. At last count she had six teeth removed. Of course, I thought tooth removal was easy. I didn’t realize that if you whined enough to the doctor, you could get most anything removed. Shortly after our second child was born, she decided that she needed a hysterectomy. Ok, I’m a guy, and I admit to be clueless on most women’s health issues, but to have a hysterectomy, so you stop having your period seems a little extreme.
A few years later she was having stomach problems. I believe the problem was she was eating anything that didn’t move, but again, I’m not a doctor. She determined the best solution to her stomach and internal cleansing problem was to have her gall bladder removed. And guess what? Out it came. With her and her medical issues I often felt I was in a Monty Python movie.
Then came the diabetes. Medicine’s gift to the fat pig. Her “sugar’ was always low. This was countered with chocolate bars, ice cream, candy by the fistfuls, and whatever else she deemed a quick fix to get her “sugar” up. There were times I would come home at night, and the living room would look like a heroin den with a marijuana chaser. Needles were strewn across the floor, little insulin bottles jammed between the couch cushions, pizza boxes, chip bags, and cheddar popcorn pieces created a creepy mosaic paper carpet. Her shirt attempted to filter much of the food, but the crumbs rolled down her lumpy body like water down the falls.
One sight that I will never forget is my poor little dog, Pugsley, trying to jump up on Donna’s lap. He would jump up, hit fat, and slide back down. Each attempt was greeted by Donna, trying to grab the poor pooch, but her arms were too short to reach the sliding dog. The big fat one would laugh and say, “I ain’t got no lap.” It was almost as if she was proud of that fact. Of course when your naked body resembles a melting candle I suppose there are times a certain clarity breaks through your delusional mind. You either have a vivid imagination, or are delusional if you think a size 24 Moo Moo makes you look like a size eight.
Here’s another conversational snippet,
“Do these shoes match?” she asked.
“The outfit or each other?” I answered.
Perhaps the most bizarre remedy that Donna created was, well it is pretty gross . . . Let’s say she had some strange vaginal leakage issue, as well as some other yeasty type problems. I’m not saying it was bad, but at times it would look like a snail traveled across the floor, and at others, you could hear the sounds of Luigi spinning pizza crust in Donna’s Pizzeria on V Street. Her solution to the problem was to put Tinactin on her vagina.
You can actually read about it in the American Journal of Medicine. She had the first recorded case of Athlete’s Vagina.