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Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Time To Close Your Eyes


Several days ago,

Doc A. has me in his office. He's tested my blood pressure, and sits back on his stool. I tell him that I have to see a car- diologist. "Wha? Who sez?" It's a WECARE thing. "WECARE," he says sourly. "Who's this at WECARE telling you this? One of their doctors?" A social worker. "A SOCIAL WORKER! Oh you tell this person to call me. There's no need for you to make that appointment. It's just a waste of money and time. Tell this person to call YOUR doctor."

Hmmm, well that was a week ago almost, and Monday is a a holiday, so calling my Social Worker was impossible. I left messages asking her what to do and to email me as soon as she could. Come Tuesday morning, there are no emails in my In Box. I sit and wait. The appointment is at 9:30. 9:30 finds me in my room, dressed in nothing. Not making any earnest move to head out for this cardiologist appointment. Instead I get on IRC, fuck WECARE. While on IRC, I get this email:

Mr. Hobobob

You need to keep the cardiology appointment as scheduled, that is what you are on our wellness plan for.

I guess she didn't call my doctor. Well, what should I do now? I call Beth Israel Hospital and speak to someone nasty in the cardiology depart- ment. This 'lovely' individual puts me on hold a handful of times before finally taking my infor- mation. I tell her that I had a 9:30 appointment today, and she corrects me: "No...you don't." What do you mean? "Mr. Hobobob, you canceled that appointment already." I didn't cancel shit. "We have it in the computer that you have canceled the appointment. There is nothing here for you today. Would you like me to reschedule you?" Shit...Charliqua Lovebisquit is going to have kittens about this. I'm going to have to reschedule as soon as possible. The earliest I can get is JULY 28th!!! Charliqua ain't going to sit well with this. She's going to shit herself.

Well, that's just too fucking bad. I'm getting a little tired of WECARE. They can boot me if they want. I'll just re-apply after a month and go through this entire shit all over again. And again and again. That's how they do you here. Back and forth until they knock you loose. Keep going and going until you get tired of the hustle. That's how it goes.

I jump back online, get on IRC and kill time. I also work on the paperwork for the SHOUT OUT. Updating the feature list and whatnot. I'm preparing for doing the SHOUT OUT alone. That's going to be a whole lotta fun folks. I can't wait to get up there and put my whole head in my mouth.

So I have two obstacles to plow through this week. WECARE and the SHOUT OUT. And plow right on through them I will. Hmmmm, I think that my LYRICA is finally starting to stop my catastrophizing. That's great.

I blow off Dr. D. again, to deal with this scheduling cardiologist thingy, but I didn't want to go anyway, as if you didn't know. I have to go next week though. I have to put that to mind. I've blown off almost all of my Doctor's appointments last week. It's just an uphill battle leaving my room. It really is. I'm becoming a shut in little by little. But honestly, if you lived outside of a home for two years, wouldn't you be a glutton for staying inside if you could after you rectified that shit. And if you lived with damn near a hundred men for a year, wouldn't you want your privacy now? Wouldn't YOU be a hermit? At least slightly?

It's hard to give up these things when you have to, and it's hard to let them go when you don't. Don't ask me to explain myself, because I can't. I can't even explain myself to myself. I just like to be alone. Alone with my thoughts, alone with my writing, and of course, on IRC. There's nothing like it. Although I don't abuse it as much as I used to. I used to be on it all the time, but I cut that shit down. It's addictive. I know this. So why get ANOTHER monkey on my back.

I pass out in the late afternoon, probably from the LYRICA which Dr. W. hopped up a little in my bloodstream. I woke at Nine this evening. Nine O'clock. It's late already. I was going to call my mother today. Well, instead...I'll get on IRC. I hop online again until One in the morning. Afterward I get to work on my novel.

And of course, blogging.

Hobobob

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