i was waiting to be xrayed as part of my green card process.
my head was heavy because my boy hadn’t called in four days and I was convinced his car was wrecked in a ravine.
I went in the little room and the woman told me to take my shirt off and stand against the wall
“Are you pregnant?” she asked me.
I looked at her, paused, looked some more. I was a few days late, I suppose.
“Do you speak French? Are you pregnant?” she asked again.
I had understood what she said, and at most any other time in my life it would have been an easy reply. “No” I said, though it came out as more of a question than a response.
“the procedure is dangerous for the fetus” she explained. “are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
getting an appointment at this place had taken three months. “I’m not pregnant!” I said to her, with a stronger and more certain tone.
she carried on with the process, xraying my chest and then sending me back out to the waiting room. I was all white.
“whats wrong?” anna asked. “what happened in there?”
“well, I think I am pregnant and I just deformed my child who’s father hasn’t called me in four days.” I replied.
And that was how Lou Deformo was born.