Clemons nodded, her mind drifting to her sister and the baby they had lost. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not being there with her during such a difficult time. But she also knew that she had to prioritize her own health and well-being, especially during a sickle cell crisis.
As the doctor reviewed her chart, Clemons couldn’t help but reflect on the challenges she faced as a person living with sickle cell disease. The stigma, the pain, the constant monitoring and treatments – it was a never-ending cycle that she had learned to navigate with resilience and strength.
She thought about her brothers, Ryan and Alonzo, and the losses she had endured. The memories of their laughter and love still lingered, but the pain of their absence was a constant ache in her heart. She missed them every day, but she knew that she had to stay strong for herself and for her family.
The nurse returned with the results of her urine test, confirming a sickle cell crisis. The doctor adjusted her pain medication and discussed a plan for managing her symptoms. Clemons felt a wave of relief knowing that she was in good hands, surrounded by a caring medical team who understood her condition.
As she settled back into her hospital bed, Clemons closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Despite the pain and the uncertainty, she found solace in the knowledge that she was not alone in her journey with sickle cell disease. She had a community of support, both within the hospital walls and beyond, who stood by her side through every crisis and every victory.
With a renewed sense of determination, Clemons vowed to continue fighting for her health and advocating for greater awareness and understanding of sickle cell disease. She knew that her journey was far from over, but she also knew that she had the strength and resilience to face whatever challenges came her way.
And as the sounds of the hospital faded into the background, Clemons drifted off to sleep, knowing that tomorrow would bring a new day and a new opportunity to shine a light on the struggles and triumphs of those living with sickle cell disease.
Tammy Clemons didn’t want to be admitted to the hospital. She wanted to go home. She had tried to avoid coming to the hospital at all costs, hydrating, resting, and waiting it out as long as she could. But by dawn on that Tuesday morning, the pain had become unbearable. She called 911 and rode in the ambulance in the half-light. That was six hours ago. She had already received three doses of opioids, but the pain was still pretty bad. The doctor mentioned the possibility of a pain pump – a button she could press to give herself smaller but more frequent doses of medication. Clemons hated the idea of the pain pump. It was supposed to give her more control, but it felt like less to her. Physicians preferred it for its lower risk, but she felt like those blips of relief were never enough.
“Do we have to?” she asked the doctor.
“No, don’t worry, we can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he reassured her.
It was true. They couldn’t admit her against her will or force her to take tests or medications. However, there was always a tradeoff. The tests she hated but couldn’t do without, the procedures that scared her but might keep her out of the emergency room – choices that hardly felt like choices. Clemons trusted her main doctor, a sickle cell specialist at Barnes-Jewish Hospital. She had become an expert in the jargon of the disease over the years. Avascular necrosis, pheresis – terms that were now familiar to her.
What you chose depended on what you knew. It was at Barnes that she had learned people with sickle cell could have children after all. She had seen other patients with kids in tow and hadn’t thought that was possible. Her old family doctor had painted a grim picture, telling her that if she got pregnant, she or the baby would die, or both. Or she would have to spend all nine months in the hospital. The best option, he had said, would be a tubal ligation. Her grandmother, who was with her at the appointment, agreed. They scheduled a surgery date. Clemons was 18 or 19 at the time and didn’t know much. She remembered being scared before the operation, worrying about infections from the blood transfusion. If she had known more, she would have held off. She would have liked to have a child, maybe two. She wasn’t angry at her old doctor, she just wished she and her family had known more. Clemons was the only one in her family with sickle cell, so whatever the doctor said felt new.
She had grown up in North County, the St. Louis suburbs known for the police brutality in Ferguson. She was from Dellwood, one town over. Though she and her mom were always close, she had been raised by her grandmother, who had come up from Mississippi and worked cleaning houses. Her grandma was strict, making her come in when the streetlights turned on, only letting her cheerlead if she wore shorts underneath the skirt. To talk to boys, she had to bring the landline into her room to sneak calls. She missed her grandmother and remembered how she made bread pudding and got dressed up for doctor’s appointments.
“Your urine came back with bacteria, so this is an antibiotic,” a nurse informed her, holding up a vial. That could have been the trigger for this whole crisis.
“Is it a stinky one?” Clemons joked.
“I don’t think it smells, but that could just be me,” the nurse replied, scanning the tag.
“I had an antibiotic that smelled like cat’s pee,” Clemons recalled. The nurse began preparing the syringe. No, it wasn’t the cat-pee antibiotic this time, but a different one. It would clear up the bacteria, the crisis would die down, and she could go home, go see her sister. Suddenly, she was retching, the nurse rushing for the garbage can. Clemons clung to the sides of it, gasping for air.
The nurse helped her calm down and found a different antibiotic to try. When Clemons’ breathing steadied, she leaned back in the bed, and the nurse went to the computer.
“On a scale from zero to ten, what would you rate your pain right now?” the nurse inquired.
“It’s an eight,” Clemons replied.
“An eight? OK.”
Nothing about this disease felt simple. It was a constant battle, a rollercoaster of pain and treatments. Clemons had become accustomed to the ups and downs, the choices that never felt like choices. But she was determined to keep fighting, to keep pushing through the pain and the uncertainty, one day at a time. “Not yet, Tammy. We have to wait for them to call us back. They said it could be a few hours.”
Clemons nodded, then reached for the phone. She called her sister, Keisha, and asked for updates. The conversation was short — Keisha was still at the hospital, waiting — but it was enough to ease some of Clemons’ worry. She knew her sister was strong, and she trusted that she would take care of their niece.
As they waited for the call from the hospital, Clemons sat down at the kitchen table with her mom. They talked about old times, reminiscing about family vacations and holiday traditions. Clemons shared stories from her childhood, making her mom laugh with her vivid descriptions and animated storytelling.
Despite the chaos and uncertainty of their current situation, Clemons and her mom found solace in each other’s company. They were a team, supporting each other through the ups and downs of life. Clemons knew that no matter what challenges they faced, as long as they had each other, they could get through anything.
Finally, the phone rang. It was the hospital, letting them know that Clemons’ niece was stable and that they could come visit her in the psych ward. Clemons and her mom quickly gathered their things and headed out the door, grateful for the reassurance that their loved one was safe.
As they drove to the hospital, Clemons reflected on the importance of family and the strength that comes from sticking together in tough times. She knew that her niece would need their support and love as she navigated this difficult period in her life.
When they arrived at the hospital, Clemons and her mom were greeted by Keisha, who looked exhausted but relieved. They hugged each other tightly, united in their shared love and concern for their family member. Together, they walked down the hallway to the psych ward, ready to offer whatever comfort and support they could.
As Clemons stood by her niece’s bedside, holding her hand and offering words of encouragement, she felt a sense of purpose and connection. In that moment, she knew that no matter what challenges she faced in her own life, her family would always be there for her, just as she was there for them.
As they spent time together in the hospital, Clemons and her family shared stories, laughter, and tears. They leaned on each other for strength and comfort, finding solace in their bond and the love that held them together.
In the midst of uncertainty and worry, Clemons found peace in the presence of her loved ones. She knew that no matter what the future held, as long as she had her family by her side, she could face anything with courage and resilience.
As they finally left the hospital, Clemons felt a sense of gratitude for the love and support that surrounded her. She knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she could always count on her family to be there for her, just as she would always be there for them.
And as they drove home, the bond between Clemons and her family grew even stronger, a beacon of hope and strength in the face of adversity. Through their love and unity, they knew that they could weather any storm together, standing strong in their unwavering support for each other.
She knew the regular customers by name, knew their preferences, their stories. She knew how to style hair for any occasion, how to recommend the perfect product for any hair type. It was a place where she felt in control, where she could offer a sense of comfort and transformation to those who walked through the door.
As she chatted with her co-worker behind the counter, Clemons felt a sense of peace wash over her. Despite the worries and uncertainties of the day, being at work brought her a sense of purpose and distraction. She focused on helping customers, on making them feel good about themselves, on providing a moment of joy in their day.
Throughout the day, her mind kept drifting back to her niece and her sister. She wished she could be there with them, offering her support and love. She hoped that her niece would be okay, that her sister would find the strength to heal from the loss she had experienced. The weight of her family’s struggles sat heavy on her heart, but she knew that she had to continue moving forward, to be strong for those who needed her.
As the day came to a close, Clemons packed up her things and headed home. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but she knew that she had to keep going. She had faced loss before, had stared it down and found a way to keep moving forward. She would do the same now, for her family, for herself.
As she walked out of the store, the familiar beep of the anti-theft gate sounded behind her. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over her. No matter what challenges lay ahead, she knew that she would face them head-on, with the same strength and resilience that had carried her through so many difficult times before.
Clemons, a kind-hearted woman working in a beauty supply store, offered her assistance to a woman searching for beads for her 8-year-old daughter’s braids. The mother specified that she wanted natural beads, without any perm. Clemons suggested clip-on beads and they discussed the price of haircuts, the benefits of Care Free Gold scalp-grease, and the woman’s hairstyle preferences.
As they chatted, Clemons mentioned her decision to undergo a hysterectomy in 2019 due to fibroids and severe periods that caused health crises. Despite not having children of her own, Clemons found fulfillment in caring for Ryan and Alonzo’s kids. She reflected on the permanence of her choice and the responsibilities that came with it.
The store manager, Ms. Sun, a 75-year-old woman from South Korea, shared stories about her children living in different countries. Clemons sampled a Queen Latifah Type fragrance and joked about her lack of children, accepting her reality with a hint of nostalgia. The conversation shifted to the opening of a sickle cell clinic, a significant development for the community.
As the day wound down and her friend CeCe prepared to leave, Clemons thought about her upcoming medical appointments for IV pain meds, transfusions, and a pulmonologist consultation. She leaned against the counter, adjusting her mask in the dimming light of the store. The day had been filled with small moments of connection and shared experiences, reminding Clemons of the importance of community and support in her life.
The article explores themes of womanhood, health decisions, and the bonds that form through shared experiences. Clemons’ story highlights the complexities of reproductive health care and the ways in which individuals navigate their choices and responsibilities. The narrative unfolds in a casual, intimate setting, capturing the essence of everyday interactions and the resilience of the human spirit. There have been numerous studies conducted on the effects of climate change on our planet, but one area that has received less attention is the impact on mental health. It is becoming increasingly clear that the changing climate is not only affecting our physical environment but also our mental well-being.
One of the most significant ways in which climate change is impacting mental health is through natural disasters. As extreme weather events become more frequent and severe, the mental health consequences are becoming more pronounced. Disasters such as hurricanes, wildfires, and floods can cause significant trauma, anxiety, and depression among those affected. People may lose their homes, livelihoods, and even loved ones, leading to feelings of hopelessness and despair.
In addition to the direct impact of natural disasters, the slow onset of climate change is also taking a toll on mental health. The uncertainty of the future, as well as the feeling of powerlessness in the face of a changing climate, can lead to increased levels of stress and anxiety. Many people are also experiencing a sense of grief and loss as they witness the destruction of ecosystems and species, as well as the loss of traditional ways of life.
Furthermore, climate change is exacerbating existing mental health issues. For example, those with pre-existing conditions such as anxiety or depression may find their symptoms worsening as a result of the stress and uncertainty caused by climate change. In addition, marginalized communities, such as low-income or minority groups, are often disproportionately affected by the impacts of climate change, leading to increased mental health disparities.
It is clear that climate change is not only an environmental issue but also a public health issue. In order to address the mental health impacts of climate change, it is essential that we take action to mitigate its effects and build resilience in our communities. This includes reducing greenhouse gas emissions, investing in renewable energy sources, and implementing policies that protect vulnerable populations.
At the same time, it is crucial that we provide support for those who are already experiencing mental health challenges as a result of climate change. This includes providing access to mental health services, building community networks, and promoting self-care practices.
Ultimately, addressing the mental health impacts of climate change requires a holistic approach that takes into account the interconnectedness of the environment and human well-being. By recognizing the mental health implications of climate change and taking proactive steps to address them, we can work towards a more sustainable and resilient future for all.