Complacent Before Poor Odds

Well, no. I didn't go into WECARE today. I know those fuckers are hopping mad now. They'll send my case back to HRA and then who knows what will happen? Will they drop the boom or will they annoy me with more scheduled appointments? I need a break from these guys in my life, really. OH, I did have a break. I didn't have to see this place for over two weeks now with this Fair Hearing. How wonderful! Although the time has been too short, but at least I had some time away.

I can't get greedy.

I went to see Dr. A instead today. Get my weekly checkup, that WECARE also makes it impossible for me to go see. I got to hear that I had a clean bill of health, and that everything is fine. Nothing is killing me so far. Which is excellent. I hope to live as long and be as energetic as my doctor. I mean, the grim reaper will me marching through our close friends and relatives soon, mowing us down to make room for the next generation, who are eager as Hell to take our places. All we can hope for now is to get comfortable and age gracefully.

Dr. A. Tells me that he has a psychiatrist for me to see. He's good, he's smart and he can do all of the things that I go to ICD for. Hmmm, and all in one Doctor? AND, Dr. A. tells me, he's not into prescribing drugs for single things, meaning that this guy can cut down on my head meds. Something that I really want. But do I want to change psychiatrists right now? They're getting ready to go to war with me against WECARE, shouldn't I hang onto the a little longer?

Dr. A. sends me to get the dreaded monthly blood test to see where my organs are health- wise. I don't fuck around and carry the form home where I'll hold it for another month until Dr. A. stops reminding me. I went straight over there from his office and got it done. Git er done. I am in a good mood over that at least. I'm still pissed that I can't prove who I am and get my State ID. I checked online with my old town, New Milford, to see if I could get my marriage certificate and divorce decree, and the website said I could, as long as I brought six points of ID. Can you believe that shit. I need six points of ID just to get my personal papers. What if I'm trying to get six points of ID with it? How do I go around that shit?

My next attempt to get ID is to try to get my High School Diploma. Lets see if I need six points of ID just to get that! IF I do, I give up. I really do. There is nothing more to get, nowhere else to go. There is no papa DMV that I can cry on his shoulder. I can only complain that I can't....wait!
One of the people at the BOX might be able to help. I dimly remember them taking a bunch of guys over to the DMV down there where they were and getting them...oh...they had to open bank accounts and wait until they got a box of checks with their names of it. There was no help there.

Well, that's fine. I'll just have to make due. Well, I get my blood tested and get the fuck out of there. I walk down the block and I get a fucking blowout. Yep that right, the gout kicks in just like that. Like a car blowout. Dammit. And I start to limp all the way to Dr. W. and the strange thing is, that I've come in early and the guy behind the reception desk gives me the wrong fucking slip. That's right. I'm somebody else and I don't even know it. Dr. W. signs the slip. I take it upstairs to get my carfare home, and low and behold they're writing someone else's name in the form for me to sign. Damn, I can't even be ME in my own doctor's office.

I'm really beginning to have a personality divide here. I can't prove shit. I can't prove that I'm me, I can't prove that I am even the man that is going to my doctor's offices! Maybe I'm not me? Maybe I woke up one day, and the real me went off to live a life of leisure, and THIS me has turned into the world's largest human target. Some one that doesn't even know that he's NOT him anymore, he's HIM trying to prove that he is ME. But what if I'm me and he's ran off with my life? Either way, this one is always getting the short end of the stick.

There is nothing new with Dr.W. She talks, I listen, she has computer problems, I listen, she talks about my getting outside more and leaving this room, I listen, she writes prescriptions, I listen, she tells me to come back next month, I listen. I take my scripts and head on home, the thought of my High School Diploma weighing heavily on me. If I can solve the puzzle, maybe others who find themselves or know of someone who does can help them out, tell them, save them the aggravation and the stress.

Because it's stressful as all Hell. Having this after you and that after you. It'll give you gray hairs before your time...if you let it. Me, I'm not going to let my Karma worry me. Whatever happens happens. There's nothing I could have done anyway, or I could have better, but since I didn't, I have bad Karma. Like I've been saying, Karma, after you have done all you can, will be your Karma: good, bad of indifferent. It's like shooting an arrow. You steady your arm, sight down it's length with your eye, line up your sight and let it go as evenly and smoothly as you can. But once it's in the air, you have no more control over it. You cannot control the errant breeze that hits it, the Earth's gravitational pull, or the moon's pull for that matter. Where it lands on the target...that's your Karma.

Get me? It doesn't mean NOT doing anything, or that you shouldn't do anything because anything you do is not going to change things. On that score, because you know I can go on and on about this, I'd better get going. I've got only three and a half hours sleep last night and I am getting more and more forgetful. It's harder for me to remember things just seconds ago. I think its a byproduct of my lack of sleeping. I just hope I can function while doing it. Make due, and they say. Get this shit together.

Git 'er dun.

Hobobob