#obgyn nyc

[scrollsofhumanlife]

Hemlata Patel nee Trivedi at the Hudson River Waterfront

Born January 1st 1946 in Sojitra, Gujarat, India

Prescott, Arizona

[richarlotte]

Have I had trouble networking as a black woman?

I’ve wanted to be an OBGYN since I was a little girl, I’ve worked in clinics and at major hospitals to learn the lingo, and I’ve always made an effort to network with medical professionals. I have never felt disadvantaged due to being black and I actually think that it’s always been an advantage. I’ve had to pursue leads, do a lot of legwork, and make sure that I’m talking to the right people but I’ve never felt like I’ve been treated as lesser than or made to feel like a burden; the vast majority of the people I’ve met have wanted to help me and been kind and I’m grateful for the opportunities and support I’ve had since I began working towards going to school.

I’ve been flown out to NYC and LA, I’ve shadowed under plastic surgeons, I’ve been to lots of lectures at Stanford, I’ve gone to major medical conferences, and I’ve been actually invited to all of these things. I think a lot of people don’t want to see black women succeed and will tell us that it’s not worth it but the truth is that it is so worth pursuing what we want; if you know that something is for you then nothing and no one should stop you from achieving your goals. I use a variety of resources to network and I make sure to reach out to black women first; it’s important to have mentors that will help you reach your goal and who have walked the same path that you’ve walked. I’ve used LinkedIn,l the most but I’ve also used TikTok and Instagram a fair bit, I’ve emailed schools, and I’ve used the connections I’ve made in the medical community to meet more people.

I have done this all at minimal cost to myself and tried to spend as little money as possible; I did invest in a few nice dresses and jackets to look the part but I try not to spend money on flying places or buying my way into events. It’s easy to find out when and where conferences are but it’s also important that you take the time to read up on events, make sure you have an understanding of what’s going on, and keep in mind that you’re there to meet people. I also go to dinners and lunches with pharmaceutical reps to learn more about medications and the state of the pharmaceutical world, I’ve learned about med sales, and I take the time to connect with young reps on LinkedIn so that I’m building a world of successful people who are my age. If you’re a black woman, you will be welcomed and I’ve felt like my presence has been appreciated by most.

Richarlotte x

[theblogtini]

Their story about when Meg had suicidal ideation & couldn't get help is so....dicey. It doesn't make sense that her gyno/midwife wouldn't be able to help her. She went to NYC for baby shower. If she asked Amal/Serena/Gayle for help to find a place to stay & get help in US, they would be able to do that. She could've flown to California from NYC and stayed with Doria for the rest of her pregnancy. They could actually do that, making statement that due to undue stress in UK, the Duchess chose to stay with her mom. Or Harry could've called Doria and have her flown to UK and stayed with Meghan much earlier than just 2-3 weeks before giving birth.

Yup 100%. I’ve never truly believed that story for those exact reasons.

She was pregnant. She was under a doctors care very frequently. At minimum 1x/month & the later you get in a pregnancy the more frequently you’re seen. So even at a NORMAL appointment she could have said something. But certainly she also could have just called her OBGYN and made an appointment and asked for a referral to a therapist. Or just said she was going to an OBGYN appt & really went to therapy if she was concerned about people finding out.

And honesty … honestly now … do we believe the “I asked for help and no one would” drama? Because what do you think the palace wants? A Duchess in therapy or dead Duchess? Of course if she told someone “I need help and I need it now” they would have helped her. She went to the HR department (🙄) & they were probably like “I’m sorry I can’t help you” but she apparently didn’t as anyone in her actual office, including her personal assistant or private secretary, her security team, HER HUSBAND WHO STARTED A MENTAL HEALTH CHARITY, her sister in law WHO ALSO STARTED A MENTAL HEALTH CHARITY…

But you know what she DID do? When she was “trapped” at the palace, unable to see friends or even run errands (ignore the fact she took an international flight to a party and her makeup artist friend visited her around this time & posted about it on her IG)

She called Bryony Gordon to do an interview… SHE WAS SUICIDAL AND SHE CALLED A FUCKING JOURNALIST.

So yeah. I have a hard time believing it.

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 17

The Judges House: August 2018

Word count: 2.2k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Before leaving London at the end of August, Aurora made an appointment with her obgyn and had a series of blood tests and ultrasounds completed to confirm whether or not she was pregnant after the first round of insemination.  Once she received the results, she and Harry flew to New York ahead of the contestants and crew so that they could spend a few days with Rori’s parents and the rest of the Avengers.

As always, Aurora was overjoyed to be home and the moment she stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, she was swept up in a bone crushing hug by Steve, as had become their tradition. He barely set her back on her feet before Tony pulled her against him in a tight hug of his own.

“Careful, you two,” she warned. “There’s precious cargo on board.”

They both pulled back from the hug for a moment in confusion, staring at her for a moment  as they processed her words, and she was glad she’d thought to ask Harry to film this on his phone when she saw the way both Steve and Tony’s eyes welled with tears as her words sank in.

“Really?” Steve croaked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Really,” Aurora replied with a grin that had her cheeks aching. “I’m pregnant.”

They pulled her back towards them in a hug, although she noticed the way they squeezed her a little less this time.

“I don’t understand,” Steve mumbled in confusion, his brows pinched tightly together. “All of the specialists told us that this was going to take several rounds…”

“I guess they never took into account that super soldier serum of yours babe,” Tony replied as they all headed for the living room sofas.

“I just can’t believe it’s really happening,” Steve admitted. “We’re having a baby.”

The rest of the day was spent with neither Steve nor Tony more than a few meters from Rori at any moment, and neither of them could stop thanking her continuously as the day passed. Eventually the sun set and the rest of the Avengers started appearing in the Penthouse as dinner neared. Aurora had set herself up on a barstool at the breakfast bar so that Steve could prepare dinner without feeling too far from her.

xXx

Originally Tony had planned for he and Steve to vacation in Miami for the week while Rori would be filming in the Tower so that they would be out of the way, but with the news of the baby they decided to stay in NYC. They had accepted that with Aurora in London for the show, they would miss a great deal of the pregnancy so they were eager to make the most of her being home in New York briefly and were already planning their visits to London over the next few months. For her part, Rori took their smothering in stride as she knew that they were just excited.

They had almost a full day to dote on her after the announcement the previous evening before the film crew arrived and started setting up in the living room of the penthouse, ensuring that the wide expansive view of Central Park would be perfectly captured in the back of the shot. While all of this preparation was done, the contestants flew in from London and were sent off on a sightseeing tour of the city before they got to work early  the following day.

xXx

That next morning, the contestants were filmed walking through Central Park before they exited at the Maine Monument in the shadow of Avengers Tower. They all acted surprised when Aurora was standing on the street corner to greet them, rushing forward to hug their mentor.

“So what do you think of my city, Girls?” Rori asked. The answering squeals caused her to chuckle before gesturing for them to cross the road. “Come on, let’s go.”

There was no faking the shock and awe of the young girls as they entered the lobby of the tower and then took the private elevator up to the Penthouse floor. Rori remembered well her own feelings of awe when she stepped out of the lift and into the Penthouse for the first time. It had been before the remodel after the Battle of New York, but the impact was still much the same. The camera’s captured the excitement and awe on the contestants faces as they took in the opulent room and the glass wall which provided the sweeping view of Central Park laid out beneath them. Aurora took a moment to take in the familiar locations she could see bordering the park. The Aquavella gallery, her old high school LaGuardia High, the Belvedere Castle, and off in the distance she could just catch a glimpse of the Columbia campus.

“Welcome to Manhattan, Girls,” Aurora announced, “and welcome to Avengers Tower. So far in the competition it’s all been about being on stage and performing in front of big crowds, but today I want to strip all of that back and just really get a sense of who each of you are. What I’m looking for today is your passion, your range and your control. If you can deliver that, then I know you’ll be able to take on the live shows and take it all the way to the finals.”

The girls all looked amongst themselves anxiously before following Aurora over to the couches arranged for them in the living room. Rori didn’t join them on the couch, and instead walked over to where the chairs were set aside. “Of course, picking who will be joining me in the live shows is a really big decision and one I definitely can’t make alone, so I’ve got a special guest joining us to help me judge your performances today. He’s an award winning, multi-platinum selling artist, who has performed sold out shows on almost every continent, but most importantly of all he’s the opinion in trust more than my own, Girls please give a warm welcome to my husband, Harry Styles.”

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Harry said once the excited squeals had died down. “I’ve been exactly where you are now and I know how terrifying this moment is. Just remember that you made it this far because you have something special and that you’ve earned your place. Just sing from the heart and you’ll be ok.”

“Molly, I’d love for you to kick things off for us love,” Rori announced once she and Harry had taken their seats. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, and tell Harry a bit about yourself?”

As each girl took their turn in front of Aurora and Harry, she grew more and more uncertain about who she wanted to pick to continue in the competition. Each of the contestants had incredible voices and moving stories and Rori hated the idea of being the person to take their dream away from them. She was relieved when they finished filming the girls segments and they were ushered out of the Tower to have dinner on the upper east side.

“Harry, what am I going to do?” Rori asked once the elevator lifts slid closed. “How on earth am I going to pick who to send home?”

“I think you have to trust your gut love,” Harry replied, conscious of the camera’s still capturing every moment of their conversation. “They each have something special, but they also have a lot to learn. Which of them do you think you can teach?”

“I feel like Bella has something special about her,” Rori mused. “She’s got such an energy and I want to see where we can take that together.”

“One down, 3 to go,” Harry nodded. “Shan has an incredible voice and she’s clearly got a lot of guts to come here today and sing an original song in front of you.”

“And it was good,” Rori agreed. “So Bella and Shan are in, which only leaves 2 more spots.”

“Any ideas?”

“None,” Aurora admitted, “They are all fantastic. I have no idea what to do.”

“Why don’t we go join them for dinner and then you can sleep on it and maybe you’ll feel more sure of your choice in the morning.”

Aurora agreed with her husband's plan and they both left the tower with the camera crew in tow to join the 6 girls for dinner.

xXx

The following day Aurora walked a few blocks from the tower with one of the camera crew to accompany her as she headed off to meet with her contestants. It was a sunny day and she silently hoped that she looked as confident as she was pretending to be as she walked down 7th avenue. The 6 Girls were waiting for her on the side walk when she arrived and she happily accepted the group hug. “Ladies, welcome to one of my favourite places in New York, the famous Carnegie Hall. Let’s head inside.”

They were guided through the building and out onto the main stage, looking out over the empty rows of red velvet chairs. The contestants looked around in awe, and Aurora herself found it all a bit breathtaking. “Some of the greatest musicians in history have stood on this stage and commanded their audience. Each of you, for your own personal reasons, dreams of your moment, and while 4 of you will have the opportunity to continue on this journey with me, unfortunately 2 of you will not be joining us in the live shows.”

The 6 contestants instinctively reached for each other, all holding hands and their breath for what Aurora would say next.

“Harry and I deliberated this decision for a very long time last night and even this morning on the walk over here, I still wasn’t 100% certain I’ve made the right choice, but one thing we did decided on is that Harry’s least favourite part of being a contestant back in the day was waiting in another room as one by one each person got told their fate. So I won’t put you through all that and instead I’m just going to tell you all together. Bella and Shan… You will be joining me in the live shows.”

Bella launched herself into Shan’s arms, both girls gripping each other tightly as they celebrated.

“But of course that only leaves 2 more places on my team,” Rori pointed out as the tension continued to build. “Maria and Georgia… I’m sorry ladies, but this isn’t your year. Congratulations Scarlett and Molly.”

There were a lot of tears following her announcement and Rori was quickly pulled into hugs.

“I’m so sorry,” she told the illuminated contestants. “I’m so sorry, please don’t give up after this.”

xXx

Aurora and Harry remained in New York for a few more days and while they were still in town, the first Audition episodes began airing. Aurora was nervous for the audience response, given how a lot of people had been very vocal on Twitter when she was announced as a judge.

◊Ella: Here as always with the latest episode of ‘what you missed on twitter’

◊Aurora: God do I even want to know?

◊Ella: People think you’re funny and the directioners are loving seeing you and Lou together.

◊Aurora: What… no hate?

◊Ella: eh, there’s always gonna be some loud arseholes but they're in the minority

◊Aurora: What are they saying?

◊Ella: Nope. We’re focusing on the good comments and we’re ignoring the dickheads.

◊Aurora: That means it’s pretty bad…

◊Ella: You’re your own worst enemy. Let’s have coffee when you’re home on Thursday and I’ll give you the full run down in person yeah?

◊Aurora: Fine. I’ll settle for Thursday. Meet you at the stag at 4?

◊Ella: Make it 4:30 and I’ll see you there.

◊Aurora: Love you E.

◊Ella: Love you too, A.

xXx

After returning to London, the beginning of September was spent in vocal lessons with the contestants and continuing to film extra video packages for upcoming episodes. More of the audition episodes aired and the public started picking out favourites among the contestants. They also seemed to love the dynamic between Louis and Aurora.

The pair  were having lunch together one afternoon at the studios where the show was based when Simon approached them.

“Have either of you been on Twitter lately?” he asked after sitting down at their table.

“I left Twitter years ago,” Rori answered, sparing a quick glance at Louis while they both tried to figure out what Simon wanted. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing’s wrong,” Simon replied. “Quite the opposite actually. The audience is loving you two during the auditions. So I want you to lean into your friendship and really act it up when we start the live shows.”

“We’re not acting Simon,” Louis scoffed.

“If people liked the way we interact, shouldn't we just keep being ourselves?” Rori added.

“Of course,” he backtracked. “I’m not trying to say you should fake anything and obviously you're very close. I just want you to lean into that and really let those interactions shine when you’re on camera.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure thing mate, will do.”

“Excellent,” Simon nodded with a smug grin. “I knew I made a great decision getting both of you on to judge.”

“Uggh,” Aurora scoffed after watching Simon stand up and walk away. “God he’s gross.”

"What a dickhead," Louis agreed.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[truthtoself]

I’ll always respect Mindy Kaling for writing and starring in a show where she was the prize. A renowned obgyn living in NYC where she constantly runs into her ideal type and it’s a romantic comedy each time. Outside of her profession and dating she spends her time getting into messy fun, eating good food, looking hot the whole time, being genuinely funny, and on top of that somehow being relatable.

[ereardon]

17 questions, 17 people

thanks for the tag @seresinhangmanjake – go read hers here!

nickname: Em is a nickname! I will also accept thot

sign: Capricorn

height: 5′2"

last thing i googled: Restaurants midtown NYC (lol going next week and need to set up a meeting place with a client and can we just admit Midtown central kind of blows for good non-steak house options?)

song stuck in my head: Midnight Rain

number of followers: 774

amount of sleep: 7 hours

lucky number: 13

dream job: Dermatologist, OBGYN or author!

wearing: Lululemon head to toe like the suburban mom I aspire to be (define jacket, align pants, align bra)

movies/books that summarize you: Ooh not sure I can find one that summarizes me. I'll just leave you with the idea that my vibe is Leslie Mann's character in "How To Be Single"

favorite song currently? Weirdly it's gotta be "Somewhere in the Orange" by Zach Bryan

aesthetic: Old world academia + Southern ladies who lunch + suburban yoga mom + OCD chef  

favorite author: Do not make me choose from my babies. I'm on a bit of a Ruth Ware kick as I just finished "The It Girl" but I really pop around, it's more of a genre thing to me – mystery + romance + English Victorian lit. Also weird book plug but I read "I Am Pilgrim" by Terry Hayes last year and it was one of the best books I've read in the last decade.

random fun fact: I drunkenly knocked on an office door in my old office building desperate to know what they did because they had no signage. Ends up they were the corporate comms teams for the NY Islanders, which is how I found myself sitting in their owner's box the next night at Barclays eating a sushi buffet and wearing a free Islanders hat that I still own to this day. I also met Anne Hathaway in a bathroom in that building.

[emuhealthus]

[suazo-san]

Ya regresé de mis vacaciones y pues a trabajar (pero no mucho porque ya R3 ni lo vez) . Me toco operar con la Maestra @saelyhf y estoy agradecida de que me acepto de acompañante en el viaje a NYC y extrañamos la Ciudad que nunca duerme . . Bellisimos momentos al lado de mi asesora de tesis 🤭🤭🤭 . . #nyc #sanpatrick #saintpatrickscathedral #newyork #newyorkcity #newyorklover #ilovenewyork #vacation #catedraldesanpatricio #vacationover #mexican #usa #us #moments #goodvibes #navy #obgyns #navygirl (en St. Patrick's Cathedral) https://www.instagram.com/p/CW_oGUnPm4g/?utm_medium=tumblr

[elav-exo]

Helping a Stranger

Eiji arrives in NYC for some pole vaulting event and he decides to warm up by jogging in Central Park. He doesn't expect to run into a wounded and heavily bleeding blond teen at one of the tunnels. W/ his broken English he asks what's wrong and the teenager is hostile.

Eiji thinks it's b/c he's scared and cautious, so he crouches near him to give him enough space.

"Do you want the hospital?" He asks.

The blond only glares and shakes his head, he clutches at his wounded abdomen. Eiji frowns and smiles when he remembers his water bottle.

He offers it to the blond and w/ hesitance, he takes it, taking quick gulps of the clear liquid.

"What's your name?" Eiji asks, "I'm Eiji."

The blond's glare dissipates and mouths the name before butchering it. He laughs at Eiji cringing before muttering, "Sorry, I'm Ash."

Eiji doesn't mind the pronunciation, the boy tried (not like others). He smiles softly at the boy, "Nice to meet you, Ash."

The blond offers a small nod back. "Do you have somebody I can take you to?" The blond shuts down again and looks at his tattered, red converse and shrugs.

There's a brief moment of silence before the blond sighs and hands Eiji his (empty) water bottle back.

"There's a clinic nearby, I'll head there."

Eiji nods, "Ok, let's get you up." He chuckles at the other's look of surprise as he easily gets him on his feet.

Eiji doesn't notice the brief blush sitting on the blond's face. The blond groans and leans some of his weight on Eiji, the Japanese teen taking it easily.

Their walk is slow to not jostle Ash's wound, but eventually, they reach the clinic, but Eiji is skeptical as he takes in the rundown facade of the supposed clinic.

His English isn't the best, but he was pretty sure the sign read: OBGYN. "Ash, this is not the right place." Ash only urges them to walk inside the building. Eiji sits him down at one of the chairs, the blond giving him a brief, small smile.

"Thank you... Eiji." Said boy beamed as the blond gave his name another try and this time said it more properly.

"No problem, Ash!" He answers back, but he's still worried, "Hope you're ok."

Ash nods, his face almost cocky, "This is nothing. See you 'round."

There's nothing else for him to do, so Eiji takes his leave and with several thoughts running through his head, he finishes his warm up but the blond never leaves his head for the rest of the day. He hopes to see him again.

* Check it out on my: Twitter *

For more -> Masterlist

Ways to Support Me!

[xx-dr-badass-xx]

Muses:

Jo Wilson {Greys Anatomy}

OBGYN Resident at Grey Sloan, adopted mother of Luna Wilson.

Nic Hawkins {The Resident}

Nurse Practitioner at Chastain, wife of Conrad Hawkins and mother of Gigi Hawkins.

Emily Burke {White Collar}

28 years old, Swat nurse for NYC. Daughter of Peter and Elizabeth Burke.

Gigi Hawkins

21 year old Nurse at Chastain, looking to become a flight nurse. Daughter of Conrad and Nic Hawkins (deceased.)

[books4eva180]

Hello guys I am here to post a sneak peak for Ch 5 for my human pregnancy au story......

A Blonde, A Brit, and A Baby

Caroline Forbes life is right on schedule for her Twenty-Year plan that she created at 16 years old: at 23 years old she is a junior editor at a magazine company in NYC and she has fantastic friends; one of whom is about to get to married. Life couldn't be more perfect or at least that was until she slept with a British asshole. What was only supposed to be a one night stand has turned into a life changing night because Caroline is now pregnant.

Klaus Mikaelson has always enjoyed the simple things in life. Bourbon, art, and an endless stream of girls who are more than willing to fall into his bed. This all changes when he is forced to move to America to join his father's law company and he isn't even really his father. Then to make matters worse he ends up sleeping with a girl who ends up pregnant.

Forced together in a situation that neither of them could have planned for will feelings blossom (yes they definitely will) Will Caroline be able to handle this life changing event? Will Klaus be able to escape the demons from his past? Will the both of them be able to provide a happy and healthy home for their baby?

If you haven't read it beware of spoilers down below! Read the other four chapters on Ao3 using this link

Expect the rest of Ch 5 later this week! It would have been up last week but I was sick and couldn't write. Enjoy

“Hey guys do you think you could maybe tone it down a bit? I’m tired and I have had a really, really long day and I just want to take a nap so I can be well rested for tomorrow because now that I am officially going to have to do this alone tomorrow I’m going to go start looking at adoption agencies so I can hopefully find a great home for this baby before they’re born.” 

At the end of this statement she finds everybody in the room staring at her as if she had grown a second head, brow furrowing she asks her friends “What? Did I say something wrong?” 

Elena being the first one to speak says “No it’s not that it’s just that you basically said that you were going to give the baby up for adoption.” 

“Oh” Caroline replies simply, unsure of what else to say, seeing that they want her to elaborate Caroline explains herself, albeit somewhat reluctantly “I know for days I have been saying that I was unsure what I was going to do going forward and that was true but after that taxi ride home alls I could think about was how that I was going to be doing this utterly and completely alone and that was just me thinking about the next eight or so months. I mean if I kept this baby that would mean doing it alone for the rest of my life and I saw how hard rasing me by herself was on my mom and I just feel that they deserve better than that. Even if it means giving them to another family; I mean I live in apartment for godsakes where you literally can not take the elevator without risk of death that I can just afford half of! Since that’s the case how am I going properly raise a child? I mean the more I think about adoption the more sense it makes; my job at the magazine company won’t be affected terribly, I won’t have to deal with he shall who must not be named with anything else other than wedding stuff, and my baby will have a better life than they would have with me.” By the time Caroline finishes her little speech she can feel tears once again to start to prick the corners of her eyes as her friends and asks with a hint of fear in her voice “Are you guys mad at me?” 

This time Enzo is the first one to speak up “Jesus christ Caroline what is it with you and believing everybody will be mad at you for things that you either have no control over or that are incredibly mature and understandable decision for someone your age. Right?” 

“Yeah Care we just want to make sure you want to do this and aren’t making this as a split second decision.” Bonnie says piping up. 

“I’m sure guys” Caroline relies shakily, even not fully believing herself “I just feel like this is the best path for everybody involved. Okay?” When her friends all nod slowly Caroline lets out a deep, long breath and turns to address Elena “Hey Lena I was wondering if you set me up for an OBGYN appointment so I can get my first ultrasound?” 

A bit taken aback Elena quickly replies “Um yeah sure. Are you sure ready for this?” 

“What choice do I have?” 

[logicalstansadvice]

Have you seen that new CDAN blind supposedly about Sebastian?

Yes - his “stans” need to learn to write.

And is this what we're doing now...submitting fake blinds? Alright let's go...

Vamp: I ran into Sebastian Stan in Brooklyn this week. He kindly declined when I asked for a photo. He was house hunting in the area and wanted to keep a low profile

Gemini: I ran into Sebastian in Tribeca, he was looking at rings

Vamp: I was at my OBGYN appointment when Sebastian Stan wandered in asking if they were taking on new patients

Gemini: I ran into him in Queens, he said he wanted his fans to fuck off

Heroine: Only his stans would refer to him as A-list

Le Chef: Madame...

Heroine: Tell me I'm wrong

Lady Danger: A bird shit on my shoulder and then I ran into Sebastian Stan in Midtown

Gemini: I stubbed my toe this AM, it's Sebastians fault because he was in Soho sucking face

Le Chef: So last time I was in NYC, I made my way over to the Chelsea area. I was walking out a custard shop and I saw Chris and Sebastian leaving a side door of a hotel around the corner from the shop. I thought I was losing it, so I just kinda walked around the opening of the weird little alley and I watched Chris get into this car (rental? limo service? not sure. he def wasn't driving) and before Chris closed the door, Seb leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I almost dropped my custard waffle cone.

[hazzabeeforlou]

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come. 

[mdtown65-blog]

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