Amanda-Leigh and the Meaning of March

March is Blood Clot Awareness Month. What does this mean? This means we have the chance to spread the word that blood clots are alive and active in modernism. Most people are the way I once was and believed blood clots could never happen to me. We are above this. Those of us who have survived feel this way. We have our lives back in check. We are not there yet.

Blood clots made me realize that reality existed. The child in me grew up the afternoon I entered the emergency room. I had to make the decision to either accept this life-changing experience or give up. The decision to accept realism did not happen overnight. The decision did not happen until I took American Literature since 1865. The term realism made more since to me. I have learned the meaning well in literature and my own life. I cannot exist in this world without the concept of realism.

Realism created a world for me that may seem cold, harsh, and potentially dangerous. No longer do Mother Goose stories make sense. The Tooth Fairy does not provide me with a sense of security. Nursery rhymes were not with me in the hospital. Where was the loving tenderness of childhood? Where were the loving voices of the greetings of friends I had seen at college on a daily basis? Where was that tender touch of books I had loved so much? Where were the peaceful worlds of Romanticism and naturalism? I added the latter two movements in literature to provide more of a realistic view from a woman who sat caged in a hospital for a few weeks. Everything I have listed became removed from my world during a dark period. This provides more of a depressing atmosphere. This was real to me. This alienated me from the rest of the world at the time. This created the step I needed to gracefully enter womanhood. No regret, should've, would've thinking lasted like stale fumes of a candle in the morning light. I woke up with the reality that I needed to change my life for the better. I created the goal of finishing college. I now have new goals. I have no limits on what I can and cannot do. I prefer to be direct and to the point in everything I do. Nothing should be missing from my daily planner. Nothing should be questionable in my life either. In a nutshell, I must practice what I preach. 

Blood clots opened the door to a rude awakening for me. At first, coping was not easy. I had an extreme dislike for Margaret Sanger Seely. Who can blame me? This one hundred percent liberated woman created a pill to genocide the African  American population in her society. Sanger was arrested numerous times, fled to a different country, and returned to America with a vengeance. Sanger found a vulnerable widow whose wealthy husband left a large inheritance. This money funded the little pills that women take each morning.

Had blood clots not affected my life, I probably would have never known the real history of birth control. The real history is not glamorous or attractive the way we see on commercials. Is an ambulance with paramedics attractive to you? This certainly is not attractive to me. I credit this research with the power of knowledge. I refuse to rely on the self for answers as it can be bias. I wish to turn to higher authority for answers. What I know is not good enough. This is the reason I suggest a woman document every little detail about events onto paper. What if a woman wishes to write a story and needs to remember a peculiar detail about an event and who attended? By her memory alone, she cannot be graced with such record. A woman needs to keep a thorough daily planner or journal to re-create events. This will allow her family to be provided with a wealth of knowledge on her life. She should document how struggles in this world made her feel along with plans of action she took to be the heroin of her own world.

I credit March with the month my life changed as a three month old baby. Perhaps this should not be remembered but I remember. I remember this the way a soldier remembers his first battle. There are no medallions in my situation. The doctors who saved my life did not receive stars on Hollywood Boulevard. I am alive today because of great doctors and nurses. At thirty-three years old, my dreams are coming true. March is the month winter ends and Spring begins. March is our Memorial Day. We deserve to have this special month.