Hit Me With the Hammer One More Time

Five and a half years ago I went into a local car dealership to make arrangements to have my car repaired. It was a Monday. The first spring thaw had taken place. It was slushy outside. I walked into the service area. I walked up the incline that had a mat on it for about fifteen feet. I stomped my feet to get rid of the water and snow. There was a five-foot area in front of the service desk without a mat. It was painted cement. I stood there waiting my turn. Suddenly, standing stock still, my feet started to slide. I did the splits for the first time in forty years.

The next day I went to the doctor with back pain. The day after that, Wednesday, I went to the hospital. Even morphine did not ease the pain. Seven days later I had back surgery. On the day of surgery my foot was paralyzed. I have done physical therapy. I have done pool therapy. I have done acupuncture (the only thing that has worked), and I see my chiropractor twice a month (down from three times a week).

There has not been a day in the last five years when I did not experience pain.

Yes, I have had injuries before. I’m the only person I know with debate injuries. I got them on trips with my debate team and, yes, I had knee surgery because of them. Yes, I was off work for six weeks ten years ago with a back problem. There is nothing on the MRI from that time. Yes, I broke up fights between boys bigger than I am (and I’m not small unless you call 5’-11” small) and injured my shoulder…notice it is the word shoulder. Yes, a midget 9th grader ran into me and bruised my spleen. But, up until the day I slipped I was walking my dogs two miles a day, shopping at The Mall of America, and doing all the things we all do, including a satisfying sex life. I was writing both regular poetry and erotica. I was working. I was generally enjoying life.

Now, I can understand that the past physical history can be used against you. But the thing I am still having trouble wrapping my mind around that worked against me…I write erotica?!?

The first indication I had that sex was a taboo subject was when I gave a list of things I could no longer do to the doctor and he just skipped over the sex part. It seems that it’s OK to say I can only walk two blocks without pain killers, I have to hire someone to clean my bath tub and vacuum my floors, I cannot shop at Target because the store is too large or do grocery shopping for the same reason. It’s OK to say I can’t do the job for which I trained and that I did for so many years. It’s OK to say I race the pain down the hall, to the elevator and to my car and on good days I beat it to the elevator. It’s OK to say I can’t do the laundry and go to the pharmacy on the same day. But SEX is out.

I still have a sex life; it’s just not what it used to be. And my attorney told me not to even mention that as one of the things I can no longer do like I used to. Then, when we got to the discovery phase, the opposing shark jumped on the erotica. She wanted to know how much money I made from it, where I was published, and how often. She didn’t want to know how much money I made from the other writing I do, where I was published and how often. Just the erotica. And when we got to the arbitration, that was the point she kept making. The arbitrator told me the shark kept saying, ”but she writes erotica.”

Just what does writing and editing erotica have to do with the fact I slipped, fell, and sustained an injury? This is how my attorney and the arbitrator explained it to me:

The last I heard, what comes out of my imagination has nothing to do with the fact I fell where there should have been warnings. It has nothing to do with the fact I was fully functioning before the accident.

Yes, there were other factors that went against me in the decision, but the writing and editing erotica was a big one. One fact does make me feel good. The opposition had to spend almost as much researching on me as they finally ended up agreeing to pay. Someone got his rocks off visiting SK, Tit-elation and my website. (It was a “dirty” job but someone had to do it.) Someone had to track down records from a dead physician, get them pulled from storage and copied. And someone had to break the law to get some of the documents they got hold of.

Am I going to continue writing erotica? You bet your bippie I am! No one is going to tell me that what comes out of my imagination is wrong, dirty, deviant, or insane.

Am I going to continue holding a mirror up to society and it’s hypocrisy? That’s a big 10/4 Red Rider. Before this I was incensed at the hypocrites that keep telling us that sex is not a part of our lives and anyone who writes about it, gets paid for it in any way (including writers), or enjoys it is sick or deviant. What they have managed to do is create a flaming liberal that will take them to the mat. I may get hammered again and again, but what do I have to lose at this point? It’s only those who are titillated, ashamed of their sexuality and afraid to proclaim it as a part of their lives who have anything to lose.