Ade Ra looks seductively at the camera while brazenly bearing a scar. She is wearing a multicolored top.

Episode 6: "Awakening Our Powers" feat. Ade Raphael

Ade Raphael is a Black disabled musician and visual artist based in Los Angeles. As a stage 4c nasopharyngeal carcinoma cancer survivor, her diagnosis happened in 2015 but she knew long before.

We discuss the barriers to access for Black disabled people in particular and why it is we believe that the societal systems around medicine and chronic illness need to change.

Join us as we discuss our collective Blackness and the strength that is borne out of struggle.

Listen now and enjoy the transcript below.

POWER NOT PITY

A podcast for disabled people everywhere...

Welcome to POWER NOT PITY, where we explore the lives of disabled people everywhere. Through storytelling, commentary and analysis, the podcast aims to amplify the lived experiences and perspectives of disabled people.

We’ll delve into all sorts of topics from education to entertainment, even sex... and we'll break down race, gender and dismantle ableism.

And then we'll ask: “What’s your disabled power?”

---

Awakening Our Powers feat. Ade Raphael

B : Welcome to Power Not Pity, a podcast about amplifying and preserving the voices of Black and Brown disabled people. With every episode, I aim to dismantle ableism by creating a safe space for my interviewees to share the mic.

There is a dire lack of media about disabled people and those of us who are multiply marginalized are practically erased from the public sphere all together. My next guest knows a thing or two about getting her voice heard.
​
I invited Ade Raphael to join me in the studio and we had a blast talking about our collective Blackness and the strength that is borne out of struggle. Most of her life has been dedicated to creating and teaching the arts. She is a stage 4c nasopharyngeal carcinoma cancer survivor. Her diagnosis happened in 2015 but she knew long before, which is a problem that many disabled people find themselves dealing with. The reality of being discriminated against is even harder to consider when the racial biases come into the picture.  

B : Could you tell us the beginning? Could you tell us more about your diagnosis? You mentioned you had cancer for a year before you were diagnosed.

A : So I had ended up leaving New York City at the end of 2013. Went to Los Angeles, I was living there for a few months. I just started noticing little things, I noticed a little earache, I notice some pressure building up in my ear. I’m used to having earaches, and having to equalize a lot in general, so I didn’t think too much about it. But, like, I started noticing every time I blew my nose or hacked up a loogie, there was blood in it. And then, there’s was, like, more and more, so I knew something wasn’t right.

I, like, guessed cancer.  Flash forward to 2015, the beginning of 2015, I ended up moving to Denver with my then partner and at this point I had been coughing up blood, like a few months at this time. Didn’t have health insurance or anything like that. Couldn’t afford it or get it because of the arbitrary spaces, I was making a little too much to be on Medicaid, I was making a little too much to afford anything. I ended up going to a clinic here and there.

They gave me, like, antibiotics, the first time and then the second time I ended up fainting, going to the hospital, you know, going to the doctor, they took scans of my lungs. They were like yeah, you have a couple of lumps in your lungs but you used to smoke so it’s probably just from that. You’re young and healthy. (laughs)

They just kept saying, you know, you’re young and you’re fit. There’s nothing to worry about, come back in like six months when you get the next scan. And I had just started working at this spot, so you know, I had a lot of stuff to figure out. Got on Medicaid, and started getting a huge lymph node on my neck. It grew to the size of a small grapefruit, or a really big orange.

B : Oh wow…

A : So yeah, I couldn’t look straight, my head was always tilted to the side. People would say they didn’t notice, and I’m like: “Are you blind? I literally look like I had something stuck in my neck.” (laughs) There’s like a little baby about to be birthed out of my neck!” It was bad, and I was in pain constantly. So after a couple of misdiagnoses, I ended up having to get off Medicaid, to be able to see this doctor that was actually in the same office as the doctor who had misdiagnosed me two weeks beforehand. But this other doctor was recommended, they didn’t take Medicaid patients, so I had to pay out of pocket.

B : I’d like to stop here to explain another phenomenon that a lot of disabled people face, the liminal space that is coverage under Medicaid. Either you receive services but live under the poverty line or you find work and don’t receive services at all.    

A : He took one look at me and said, “oh you have cancer and we’re going to have to do a biopsy but we think it’s lymphoma,  but the more treatable lymphoma”.

B : Cause you’re young and you’re fit…

A : (laughs) Exactly! I wasn’t really a smoker, you know and there were all these things that they were saying, and nasopharyngeal carcinoma, they usually find it in Southeast Asia n' whatnot, even though there are tons of cases in the US. I was just thinking, what are the chances?

So I ended up getting diagnosed that July, and started chemotherapy the end of July. That was nine weeks, three cycles, chemo every three weeks, like a pretty heavy dose. That was pretty bad, lost my hair, lost a lot of taste, nauseous all the time, all the things you expect with chemo. I felt terrible all the time but then it really ramped up after the radiation started to set in. They say it’s low impact, it doesn’t make you throw up immediately like chemo does, but it’s basically like getting burned non-stop.

Eventually I couldn’t eat anymore, like, I was in constant pain for one, but I couldn’t swallow anything for weeks. And yeah, then I ended up falling out the end of November. The night before Thanksgiving, everybody’s, you know, cooking all this food and my mom was there and my wife at the time, I got married in the middle of all this, and they’re cooking food and I just felt terrible, I felt like Death was knocking. I tried to get up, literally  couldn’t feel my body, couldn’t move and just fell.

And all that white light stuff they talk about? It was coming (laughs). The whole room and my vision was just shaking, shaking, shaking and this white was just, you know, creeping in and creeping in and it’s just like shimmering, you know, and I knew I was gonna die. But then I had this thought of, like, how traumatizing it would be to everyone in the building, cuz I was, like, in the hallway.

We tried to get me downstairs and to the hospital. I could only make it right out the door. Like, being dragged essentially (laughs). In that moment I thought, I can’t die here, that would be so embarrassing. That was the thought, it would be so embarrassing! (laughs) And then the white light went away, the shimmering stopped. I still felt terrible, I still wanted to die but then they brought me to the hospital.


B : That’s a testament to willpower.

A : Yeah, yeah, and making it through that night was another testament. They didn’t want to put me in inpatient, they just took me to the emergency room, didn’t want to give me the pain meds, I mean we left quickly, the ambulance came, like we didn’t have time to get all my meds and things like that.

​They also wouldn’t let my family go get my meds, the pain medicine my oncologist subscribed for me. They wouldn’t let me go get it, they wouldn’t give it me, I was getting treatment at that same hospital, it was like a shit show. One of the administrators came down at, like, two in the morning, when I was writhing in pain and just, like, terrible in this hot, stuffy, cramped room. Yeah, they came down to make sure we wouldn’t sue them. (laughs) Then essentially they put me in inpatient.

Then I spent six weeks, or maybe it was like four weeks in the hospital, just getting radiation everyday, getting chemo once a week, being just doped up on all kinds of anti-nausea stuff so I couldn’t swallow so everything had to be intravenous or enema, and it’s just like your body is not your own at this point and you don’t have any privacy at all.

You gotta worry about changing, if someone is going to come in. I couldn’t even change in my own room because you know I personally was like, I don’t give a fuck, they had their finger up my butt (laughs)! If they see me naked, they see me naked! Like, I feel like they should understand but the folks that I was with, they were like could you please just…

B : ...consider that this is a human being, not a piece of flesh.

A : (laughs) Yeah.

B : A lot of what you said is exactly what I experienced. The overmedication, or the undermedication, it’s never like the right amount right? And you’re there in pain and you don’t have your own agency,  you are being constantly scrutinized, and it’s like for us, you know Nina Simone has that one song, “To be Young, Gifted and Black”, it feels like for me, and for us, that it’s like “To be Young, Sick and Black”.

B: Listen closely here, this is where she explains a concept that is extremely important to understanding why Black disabled people in particular face alienation in medical spaces.   

A : Historically, Black bodies have been used in ways that are against the guidelines set forth in medical fields. Like we can go all the way back to stuff we read in the books, but I could go to my own story. At some point they say, you’re not going to be able to eat, so we’re going to do is give you a feeding tube that’s supposed to help. When I was not able to swallow anything, I was supposed to use this feeding tube, right? The doctor who put the feeding tube in me, I’ll never forget, he creeped me out so much. He seemed a bit like a sociopath, but also the heavy smell of alcohol on his breath, like I’ll never forget it. He was very handsy, he put his hands on me, and I felt uncomfortable from the jump. Anyway, when somebody puts a feeding tube in you it’s supposed to go right next to your belly button, it’s supposed to be real simple, couple of hours, you’re good.

This mfer, put it right here above my belly button in the middle of my abdomen, to try to put it into my stomach. Like, that has never been done. To me it’s like this person saw this young, Black body and you know thinking about all these things like pain tolerance, you know da-da-da-da-da.  I don’t know what was going through this person’s mind, but they put it in this spot that’s it not supposed to go through ever. He said, I thought I would just try this. He literally said I thought I would try this. And then when like, so I’m in excruciating pain after the procedure, it’s not supposed to be there.

Apparently, the angle that he put it in, it wrapped around my stomach and twisted my stomach all the way around, and was like holding it there for hours. So while he was about to treat other patients after doing this for me, I was in the OR for like a solid three or four hours. They had to keep giving me certain pain meds, they couldn’t give me the good ones because I had to go back in for surgery and some of them act as blood thinners, so I was very limited in terms of my pain management.

So I’m in pain for these hours, finally see the person and this is after so much BS. This person had the mind to go and say, it’s because, you know, I work out, I’m strong, I’m physically strong right? Not necessarily fit but strong. He was like, it’s because you have these abs, you know, you’re too strong, you know, you’re pulling on it! So he’s there blaming my own physiology for the pain that I’m in because he decided to do this wrong. Anyway, cut, he puts it in right, it ends up infecting my stomach. Hence the reason I ended up in the hospital...

B : .. again.

A: Again, because I was getting zero nutrients. I was constantly throwing up, and I had to be on antibiotics all the time. Not eating and being on antibiotics is literally the worst thing you could ever do for yourself. That's Black bodies in medicine! (laughs)

B : That's pretty much the experience that I've found of disabled people of color. We all have the same experience of being mistreated.

This is so important to me. I lie awake at night thinking about this very phenomenon. Why does the experience of Blackness within medical spaces hold so much pain and intolerance?  

A : I think that's such a dense, dense not of reasons, much in parallel to why people of color are mistreated when they go grocery shopping, you know what I mean, while they're mistreated when they're students in school, or treated differently by the police. It's the same idea. It's not a blanket statement of disposability, cuz it's wrapped up in these ideas of you can take more. It's wrapped up in these ideas of you can do more, and you are, like, there's something different about you.

Whether it's your strength or you know, your mental space, whether it's your attitude you know. (laughs) Whether it's like, all these people read into it. You know [and people] get upset.
I couldn't be too firm about advocating for myself because whenever I started to I could see it in people's eyes, they would start to shut down, you know what I mean, you think you know so much. But I know enough, I knew enough. Before I was diagnosed, I knew that I had cancer, and I had to sit through multiple misdiagnoses.

One of the people who misdiagnosed me called me to be like, oh it's reactivated mono, just go see your primary physician, and I was like, what can I do in the meantime? Click. I'm gonna ask what I can do in the meantime, click! Called back, and it was their nurse practitioner who answered the phone somehow within ten minutes, and it was like, you know, sent me the exact same thing the doctor said and then I said, what can I do in the meantime, click again!

B: So we know now that Black disabled people often do not have it easy when they go to the doctor. This is a pivotal moment in the interview where I ask a question that not many people ever hear.

Do you consider yourself disabled?

A : Mmm. Yes...

B : After all that.

A : Yes, after all that, I consider myself disabled. Do I feel like I can justly and efficiently make that claim? No. I couldn't even claim disability because once again, arbitrary laws about who's allowed to claim disability. You had to have been working, and you had to have been doing these things for x amount of time, you know. I was working when I got the diagnosis, but it wasn't just long enough.

B : Life is beyond hard when you are invisibly disabled. If you look well enough to be healthy, but no one is able to grasp that you are struggling with chronic illness. It is nothing but paradoxical that she has to succumb to working even though she is unable to because of her cancer.

Like she said earlier, she is physically strong, she’s 5’10” with abs. She doesn’t look like the image of what a disabled person looks like to society but she suffers just the same.  

A : In my mind the world is gonna see me, on the outside I look very healthy, I keep it together as much as possible, but I wake up pretty much everyday in pain. I have to weigh whether or not I'm feeling chronic fatigue or if I'm just tired. I have to weigh whether or not to like, do the thing that I want to do or do the thing that I need to do because I'm gonna need to take the time to rest. But I also need that time to get things done because the world doesn't see me as disabled. The world doesn't have time for that.

For a long time I was horizontal. For a long time I was unconscious, well not unconscious, semi-conscious. I was doped up all the time, taking my medicine on the hour, every hour, twenty four hours, stuff like that. So I never slept, I was never upright, and that was months, you know. You know, post that first treatment, and even then as soon as I started to gain the slightest bit of strength, the expectations of you fly through the roof. I put a lot of expectations on myself, and I feel like so much in placed on me, it's so hard to go say, I'm disabled, I don’t have a sticker. I don't park in the handicapped parking but  damn it, there are days when I need to park in the handicapped space!(laughs)

It's one of those things, like, I have a lot of time, but the more time passes since the cancer has been under control and what not, the more time passes I have a chance to recover, and I can feel it. So I wanna feel that strength and I wanna go out and do things, and be active in this way, like I'm all better!

In those moments, I forget and it's the scariest thing to be reminded of. So, yes, I am disabled. I do consider myself as living with a disability. My brain wants to be like, this is not going to be forever. At the same time, it's like this is likely going to be forever. You just have to figure out how to make it easier for you. You have to figure out how to make life work for you as opposed to you working just to exist.

Post all that, the case was supposed to be terminal, it came back a second time, had to get immunotherapy from the clinical trial the next year. I'm two years out from that, so I'm like, you know, the knowledge that a) it could always come back and I would always have to do this treatment, or a kind of treatment that is going to mash up my body or I'm gonna deal with the results of this treatment that I already got forever and that in and of itself is enough. It just kinda makes things a little more difficult for me.

MUSICAL BREAK: “Evernote” by Ade Ra

A : Post trying to come back to life, that's what I call it coming back to life, in this time of me trying to come back to life but right after, needing to drink water every five minutes. I'm going to try to go out, go to a restaurant to have dinner, and you think you could have non-stop water at a restaurant right? It's just not that easy.

You can even tell them, hey, I'm a recovering cancer patient, I need non-stop water. They'll forget you, they won’t bring it to you, they'll tell you they only have one bottle, they'll tell you all kinds of shit. Some places will try to keep me from bringing my own water bottle in. You know I go to the club, dance, I can't really do any real exercise.

I can like go to the club, bounce a little bit, move, start to almost sweat, almost breathe hard, be exhausted, start to feel like I'm almost going to pass out, I need my bottle of water but they tell me I can't bring anything in it when I come in and I can't bring anything when I come out. There's no water fountains in here, or the water fountain is in this place that's hard to get to. I always feel awkward asking the bartender for water, most bartenders won't even fill up your water bottle for you. It's like a lot of rules for something as simple as water.


B : Yeah, yeah. That's what ableism does, you know? It makes life harder for disabled people and it puts in a place where either we’re just sick enough, or we have to claim that we're super sick. As human beings we should be allowed to be who we are. I am just so angry that you were not able to hydrate yourself. It's like, water is a right, not a privilege.


A : I mean there's that claim, and then there's the response of whoever you're making that claim to. Just the other day I having dinner with a few folks. Essentially I told the waiter the same thing, would it be ok if we had two of these glass bottles out here? it's from the tap, and they would say, oh I'm sorry we have a limited amount of water we can give. I'm like ok, I'm only asking, cuz... I'm gonna tell 'em, give 'em the cancer...

B : And then you have to disclose that!

A : The way I look, the response I always get is, Oh it must not have been like, there's not really good cancer but it's like, oh it must not have been that bad. I have been so much time on my health and my recovery that I don't appear to be someone who is on their deathbed two years ago.

B : What does that even look like?

A : Right. For me, it was in bed a lot. Feeling like death. So I tell this person that and oftentimes people will say, Oh I'm so sorry to hear that, or they'll often do the congratulatory like, Oh! Had! Congrats! I'm like, well (laughs) I still get hit with radioactive fluids every six months to make sure there's nothing in me. I can't get the scans that my body is telling me that I should really get because I've done the research, and they tell me, well no we're only going to look at the lungs because that's what the guidelines tell us to do.

A : Yeah, this cancer started in the back of my face and it came back in my lungs. It spread to my lungs, got rid of it above my chest, it came back a second time in my lungs. So they're only scanning for that second occurrence not bothering to say, it's unlikely that it'll come back in the first place because you're irradiated.

This is a long story but I told this guy that, and his response was like, yeah, I had a friend who died of cancer too. It was real bad, they didn't make it. And like, doing it in this way that really felt that he was trying to guilt me for making that request, saying that I had cancer, and it's like all caught up in this, to me, this narrative of, Oh you look and seem ok so it must, on the inside it must not be that bad and like, how dare you, disrespect people who didn’t make it by like, you know, and there's always that concern and that worry and cancer is something that affects everybody, literally. Either everybody knows somebody, or has had it themselves.  So it's like one of those things, like, you never know how someone is going to respond.


B : Honestly, I live my life under this mantra: “They don't get it, until they get it.” Like you have to make it personal for people. It's silly because we have to do it. We have to do that work as disabled people, especially as disabled people of color. We have to do that work to tell people. Just like you disclosed your status with that waitress who just couldn't understand that you need two glasses of water.

    When I hear about that, I think about when people say, “oh I have a black friend”, I understand racism. There are intersections.Part of what people don't understand is that there are intersections at the corner of racism and ableism. There are intersections at the corner of ableism and sexism. All the isms come together and cross to make the world more complicated and it's ok to be different. It's ok to move in the world differently, you know, as sick people, and as young sick people.

One thing I want to ask you is: What do you think we can do to dismantle ableism?

A : In this day and age, we're asked to make individual choices and individual gestures in order to heal the world and problems caused by this system that we're all wrapped up in while also sort of looking out for our own selves. So I don't think it's as simple as if you see someone who's struggling, help them with their groceries. But to me something that would be great is even like, maybe allow people who work part time to receive benefits?

Because I'm thinking back to when I started working again, I started working at this dispensary in Denver. This is also part of why I realized I can't do 9-5 work, because I could only work thirty hours a week before I got sick and it was a guarantee that I was gonna get sick. It wasn't like a “oh I'm gonna be tired”. It's like I'm tired by day two, day three I'll make it through. And it doesn't matter, like, how it was spread out, within any seven day period, if I worked more than thirty hours, I would get sick.

I told this to the people who hiring me. I was like, it's fine if I can't be full time, but you cannot give me more than thirty hours. They have this schedule that they have to work with their bosses and their boss, they won't allow them to work to fill out their schedule and it becomes this whole thing, like, I have to say “ok I'm going to do it this week but please do not do that again” and I would get sick.

This one time I had strep throat. It's a bad one, right? For most people it's terrible in general, but me? I got some shit called Lemierre's syndrome. The strep throat somehow sublimated from my throat into my lymph system and then I became infected throughout my whole body. I got a blood clot in my jugular, and I was once again, close to dying! I ended up having to get a PICC line, receive antibiotics for thirty days straight, and still having to work after that.

B : Thirty days straight? Of antibiotics?

A : Antibiotics through this line in my arm, three times a day, at work, you know, and having to do that. You know what I mean, and so now I have to take these breaks, because like, I have to make enough money to survive.

B : Sure, sure! That's what capitalism does.

A : But also they have to give me hours, and I can't say too many times, no stop, or else they're going to get rid of me. If I wasn't so good at my job, like I made myself literally indispensable to them. I was doing things that nobody else could do, we're at a dispensary but I'm working the front desk, and I'm doing all this filing and creating all of these systems, and you know, making Excel sheets and spreadsheets. All the stuff that people would do, to take the care and time to do it such a nice way. You know, make sure I communicate with every single person who comes through the door, so that other people see me.

B : It's like you have to work on commission.

A : Yeah, without receiving commission! (laughs) Just like, fire me for being sick! For not wanting to get sick. For wanting to be able to work. Just things like that. Wages are important and benefits, universal healthcare happens everywhere, like, I'm sorry if you're one of those people who thinks that it's going to be an impetus on your life if we all get healthcare. We all need it, we all need to survive. We're not allowed to learn the medicine for ourselves either. There are so many blocks to do self-healing anyway. So we need this.

We need our healthcare system, and it's also being gatekept at the same time. That's one thing I could say. There's so many layers.

B : There are so many layers but you definitely scratched at two or three of them. (laughs)

A : (laughs)

B : Because everything is connected. Again, intersectionality is real! People don't like to accept that fact because it's too hard.

A : Here's a fun one. So after radiation, I really can't take sunlight like that anymore. I go to a park for an hour, I feel terrible. I have to take, like, a super long shower, get rid of the radiation. In an effort to get back healthy, I tell myself, you need to exercise some. Granted you're gaining motor functions, but you don't have your breath anymore. You got your lungs irradiated, you got all kinds of stuff going on in there. Gotta exercise that, do some aerobics. I don't wanna go running.

At night, because I'm afraid of you know, your George Zimmermans, and your quote on quote bad apple cops. I'm terrified. I don't wanna have to deal with it. I don't wanna have to deal with the tiny little thing of, I'm jogging and there's some white woman on the street, and she looks back and she's just terrified. I can't do it during the day. That's like something so small, and it seems arbitrary but it's like wrapped up in all these huge intersectional problems.

B : So what's your disabled power? What gives you the most agency within your disability?

A : Interestingly enough, it's not the radiation sensory. Although I think in years it'll come in handy. But that's like the doomsday theorist in me.

My power? And what really like, gets me feeling like, well ok this is a terrible road but I came out with this, is being so in touch with my body when I am doing these stretches that I have to do, I'm constantly like, spitting up things. My body underwent a lot of change. I have to like, break that up now and it literally causes me to break up tissue in my shoulders, so much stuff is connected but being to like, see that connection between like “oh I stretched out my shoulder there's less tension there. Suddenly I can breathe more clearly through the nostril on that same side.” You know, and like being aware of things and feeling that control, like body control.

I'm so much more in control of my body because I've had to be, you know what I mean? But, like because of that and there's a little bit of lament like, oh you know, before this I didn't have that control, but if only. All that stuff can be recovered. This control that I have is magic. It literally is magic. Nobody can take that away from me.

Since all that I've like, had to refuse. I refuse to accept anything but my own truth. And when I do, the universe and my subconscious is like, “No baby, we're not doing that. Remember, we're not doing that.” And that feeling of fearlessness, of feeling commitment, of just unapologetically like, I am here, and I'm gonna do me, came out as trans. The strength to do that and stick with it after all that shit? You know, I been through it. I can take anything. Literally, I been through it.

What I need is what I'm gonna get. I have the strength to bring people into my life and to take them out. I have the strength to like set my own course, and that is the blessing of this experience.  Now there's stuff I can do better than half these people out here. You know what I mean? Like, I understand something that people don't even get. I can connect with other people in this way because like, I get it! I got it!

B : You're way more adaptable now.

A : It’s real. I'm hoping to teach people to get it without getting “it”.

B : You are so fearless, and I'm kind of falling in love with it!

A : (laughs)

B : We went through so many really hard topics, and we did it with like an effortlessness and a smoothness.

A : Smiling...

B : Yeah! Laughing... I really appreciate your disabled power!

A : We all have powers but ours were awakened.

B : You may have heard taps during this episode, but that’s only because Ade was so passionate about what she was saying that tapped on her desk for emphasis. I’m not gonna lie, being sick and Black is hard to live with. It’s hard to communicate adequately with doctors, it’s hard to get a competent diagnosis. It’s even harder to prove you’re sick to able bodied people who just don’t understand the experience of being disabled.

I want to imagine a world where disability justice is a standard in schools of all levels. From middle school, high school and college, and medical schools should definitely have standardized disability justice related work too.

I’ll say it again until my face turns blue, disability justice is for all!   

Got questions? Hit me up at powernotpity@gmail.com! If not, check out my website for updates and transcripts from all the episodes, that’s www.powernotpity.com. I’ve got a Facebook account, a Twitter and an Instagram under the same handle, powernotpity.

The music you heard in this episode is from none other than Ade Raphael, also known as Ade Ra. Isn’t she so talented? If you want to show her some love, go to her Facebook page, that’s A-D-E-R-A.

If you like what you heard and want more, please check out my Patreon page at www.patreon.com/powernotpity. Shoutout to Sarah Slater, JB Brager, and Michelle Ruffin for becoming patrons. Patrons receive exclusive content from shoutouts to chances to vote on my next guest.

Please don’t forget to hit subscribe and leave a review at Apple Podcasts. It’s the best way for people to discover the show and I promise, I promise, I’ll read every one and blush about it!

Thanks for listening!