The Legend of Spike

The narwhal named Willy Ramrod Dickhole Monodon Monoceros (more commonly known by his badboy nickname Spike) was appointed the patron saint of male infertility due to his genealogic relationship with the sperm whale and his phallic shaped horn/tusk/spike. While one would commonly think that the sperm whale would be a better choice, there are a number of reasons that Spike won this battle. The sperm whale while having the largest brain of any animal was not appropriate as we know that men don't think with their cranium brain, but the their other phallic one. As we have recently learned from Spike’s action figure packaging, his white battle horn “shoots blizzard beams" which is how he freezes sperm for later occasions and donor needs. His white battle horn also “freezes time” which we only wish he could do for our eggs when we were younger. He only eats Swedish fish (other jelly candy cannot be substituted). He has genetically adapted to perform deep dives that our males’ sperm should emulate when diving into an egg. He may dive more than 15 times in a day, and stay down for 25 minutes at a time. If only our men could perform that well! As he lives in the artic, he think cold showers are the best wake up calls!

Some little known facts: Spike is a NARcoleptic which is why he is sometimes asleep and unable to guarantee fertilization. He is also addicted to NARcotics, which helps him empathize with all of us infertile women who are willing to shoot ourselves up with anything as long as it could get us pregnant. He is NARcissistic, but then again, most of the men we know are! He believes every good story has a strong NARrative which is why he is allowing Raven to write up his tale. He hates NARrow-minded people and dismisses them with NARy a thought. However, he truly appreciates a good sNARky comment.

A bit of history from Wikipedia is enlightening:

In Inuit legend, the narwhal's tusk was created when a woman with a harpoon rope tied around her waist was dragged into the ocean after the harpoon had struck a large narwhal. She was transformed into a narwhal herself, and her hair, that she was wearing in a twisted knot, became the characteristic spiral narwhal tusk.

Some medieval Europeans believed narwhal tusks to be the horns from the legendary unicorn. (You see there IS a connection!) As these horns were considered to have magic powers, such as the ability to cure poison and melancholia, Vikings and other northern traders were able to sell them for many times their weight in gold. The tusks were used to make cups that were thought to negate any poison that may have been slipped into the drink. During the 16th century, Queen Elizabeth received a carved and bejeweled narwhal tusk for £10,000—the cost of a castle (approximately £1.5—2.5 Million in 2007, using the retail price index). The tusks were staples of the cabinet of curiosities.

Make sure your men know that vitamins and wheatgrass only go so far….they need to be paying homage to Spike as well! Tell them to take a cold shower and eat some Swedish Fish!

Perspective and Such: The Screams of A Mother

I ate lunch with my husband today in the cafeteria of the children's hospital which is a part of the medical center where he works.  It's a relatively small cafeteria and has wide double doors which stay open to the hallway.

Shortly after we sat down, we heard, over the din of cafeteria employees serving food, patrons eating and talking and other cafeteria sounds, a blood curdling scream.  At first we weren't certain what was going on, and most (if not all) of the people surrounding us seemed unaffected or unaware.  That initial scream was followed by the most primal, uninhibited, from-the-depths-of-the-soul wailing and screaming that I had ever heard.  It went on for about a minute, maybe until they moved this mother to a more private, sound-proof room. 

It quickly became clear to my husband and me that a mother had just received devastating news.  I don't know if she had just found out that her child had died or if she had just learned that her child was going to die.  But we sat in silence, just looking at each other...thinking about how this life, these lives had just been changed in the most dreaded and terrifying way.

"Sobering" doesn't even begin to describe the feeling in those moments.  I know this isn't exactly and directly related to what everyone is going through here...but I did think of you girls and wanted to share this with you.