Body, Remember: A Memoir (Living Out: Gay and Lesbian by Kenny Fries

By Kenny Fries

During this poetic, introspective memoir, Kenny Fries illustrates his intersecting identities as homosexual, Jewish, and disabled. whereas studying in regards to the heritage of his physique via clinical files and his actual scars, Fries discovers simply how deeply the stories and psychic scars run. As he displays on his relationships along with his relations, his compassionate health care provider, the brother who resented his incapacity, and the lads who taught him to like, he confronts the demanding situations of his lifestyles. physique, bear in mind is a narrative approximately connection, a redemptive and passionate testimony to at least one man’s look for the resources of identification and distinction.

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Additional resources for Body, Remember: A Memoir (Living Out: Gay and Lesbian Autobiographies)

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My mother is already out the door when my father turns to me. " he asks. Looking at his face I see his eyes are filled with tears. 42 Body, Remember Burrowing my head in the bulk of his chest, I hug him. Even if I could fight through my fear what would I tell my father? I have no words or insight to explain what has been going on. I am too anesthetized to heed my body's alarm. I want him to know how afraid I am. I want him to know how I need his love more than I ever have. But I also know if I begin to talk about my panic attacks, that might trigger one, and I want to avoid embarrassing myself by not being able to breathe in front of my father.

42 Body, Remember Burrowing my head in the bulk of his chest, I hug him. Even if I could fight through my fear what would I tell my father? I have no words or insight to explain what has been going on. I am too anesthetized to heed my body's alarm. I want him to know how afraid I am. I want him to know how I need his love more than I ever have. But I also know if I begin to talk about my panic attacks, that might trigger one, and I want to avoid embarrassing myself by not being able to breathe in front of my father.

Soon, I feel as if I am going to need the indented tray that the nurse dropped at my side, but my left hand is in a cast and my right is still hooked up to the intravenous bottle, so I can't maneuver it in time. Finally, the man who is going to take me back up to the ward comes back from lunch. The nurse points to my bed. I close my eyes and feel my bed begin to move. I open my eyes to see the ceiling, the silver and fluorescent light, once again whirring by. When I am wheeled out of the elevator I see my parents sit~ ting in two uncomfortable~looking chairs.

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