Too Much Information, Part 5

(With this audio supplement.)

The Breaking Off (A is into other people, B is bitter and apathetic, A feels weakened and patronized by B, B feels like she wants her old life back but not really she just doesn’t want now to be what it is or whatever)

preceding this—back to ovarian shutdown/menopause/osteo

[Very familiar, very distant, tension underneath, starts off quietly with B giving A sideways glances, and A sneaking peeks at passersby anxiously, wantonly.]

B: (Almost accusingly) A ferocious osteoporosis could follow you through the throes of your slowest years, you know.

A: (Defensive) What is that supposed to mean?

B: (Smug, still accusing) Low phosphate & calcium cause bones to be brittle. Porous. Prone to be being broken in even easy motion. Just thought you oughta know.

A: (Still looking at passersby) Right. Right. Menopause.

B: (Arguing calmly) Men don’t pause.

A: Men don’t proposition or paw at us with the same slobbering lust.

B: Lost love.

A: (Snickering, mocking) Less estrogen suggests dressing less sensually & relinquishing sex.

B: (Retorting) Selective estrogen-receptor modulators like tamoxifen tame us lost women grown gaunt & all cancerous.

A: Ovarian shutdown.

B: Ovarian shutdown.

A: “Hot flashes, vaginal dryness, mood swings, depression, weight gain, bloating.”

B: Doctor is a man.

A: (Angrily) Doctor is a man.

B: (Venting at A) Doctor is a slithering phallus!

A: MEDICAL SHUTDOWN!

B: FUCK your ZOLADEX!

A: A is enraged. A is vindictive. A is talking fast.

B: B is keeping cool.

A: A is not accepting this kind of bullshit antibioticsurgerychemotheraphallic f —f —f that that that thinks it can solve all of societies health problems.

B: B is not cool. B is not feeling cool at all.

A: A is spitting while she talks. A is rehashing old shit.

B: (Enraged, holding tears back) Well B is totally down with rehashing old shit. Yeah. And you know what? B is low-dose radiation therapy, right there (pointing at A’s ovaries), yeah. B is old-fashioned ovarian ablation. B is a laparoscopy and scraped up adrenal glands on the way out. B is surgical sex with a dead machine more living than the dick-brained surgeon while you’re under.

A: (Holding tears back) A doesn’t want to cry. A doesn’t want to in the street. A will not cry. A will not cry over this petty shit.

B: B is totally down with rehashing old shit. B is a professional rehasher. B has never forgiven anyone for anything. B is good at rehashing. B is clotting estrogen receptors with tamoxifen. B is keeping estrogen from cancerous cells.

A: A will not cry. A will laugh. This is ridiculous... Therefore, A will laugh.

B: B is totally fine with dropping it and getting fast into a passing taxi.

A: Therefore, A will laugh. (Pants, catches her breath, & cries:) All of this is completely natural.