Monday, July 10, 2017

Bite Me 2.0

After 72 Hours post dental surgery I want to say that I actually feel better physically but emotionally I am broken.

The reality is that I don't "get" the South. The level of illiteracy, the fake manners, the low education and in turn compensation explains much of what I am experiencing and while I can place those extrinsic issues onto others I cannot explain how much it affects one intrinsically.  After awhile you can only be as verbally abused and as dismissed without it affecting you on a deep inner level.

Yesterday I was broken, truly broken and tried to come up with ways to avoid the rage and the depression that accompanies this much anger.  I thought the best way was to avoid speaking and I truly think that by communicating in writing will be more effective and enable me to have a moment to clear my head and compose my thoughts and words in a way that will allow me to be understood here.  I am at the point the less said the less mended and this way I can be sure less will be said.

Today I got up and actually walked and had a lukewarm coffee sitting on my porch reading the paper.  I felt civilized and in some way "normal" but when one feels as if you have been stung by 100 bees (but seriously I kinda of want to keep the lips) and a face that looks like Mitch McConnell's you ask yourself: "Could I have done this differently? Better?" And that I cannot answer.

What I am concerned about is that not that I will be fine but what I will go through in order to be fine and that is what frightens me most.  When you have zero support network and no one to trust to provide feedback or just a shoulder it becomes overwhelming.  There is only so much one can do alone before the branches on the tree breaks and in turn leaves the tree exposed to the elements. I feel very exposed here.

I was planning to write my first book about Teaching but right now I have elected to write a series of essays about living here and what it is like to truly be a fish out of water and be in water that is as deep as red as one could get in the deep red sea.  So many of these blog entries will evolve into essays about the people and the place that I call anything but home.

And why I can never call it home it is because I could never live anywhere where the state of society is so abhorrent so vicious and cruel that is based in such self loathing as that is what it is all about, the feeling that you are so worthless in the bigger picture you kick anyone in the smaller picture just to feel better about yourself.  And that explains the Vanderbilt problem as they are staffed with so many low level lowly educated and marginalized people they direct that to the only people they can - patients and they do it with impunity as they know in a State with largely lowly educated individuals the have neither the skills nor the resources on how to demand respect.  Nor do they as they fear the power structure and in a State that has little medical care for those in need they hold the cards and they hold them tight.  It is abusive and it is fueled in class and race.   And the anger and fear trickle down like ice cream on a cone on a hot day but nowhere as sweet.

So today when I called for my post surgical follow up I was told that it needed to be on the 14th, week to the day it was done.  I had been very clear when I originally anticipated this and scheduled this that it would not coincide with vacations or dates that would lead to delays or problems should I have issues/questions or needs.  And if so who would be my contact person to ensure they would be able to help me if a problem occurred.   And sure enough my Surgeon is on holiday next week.  Interesting for those undergoing surgery this week but hey not my problem.  And so I was told that my next appointment was the 25th, 18 days following surgery.  Really?

When I said the info given said the 14th I was told that was the earliest I could come in and that he was on holiday and that the 25th was not two weeks post surgery so apparently I was wrong.  I simply commented that since I had no choice is there another person I could see just to make sure I am on course and was told no as that my Surgeon had done the work no one else could look at it.  Once again a Really?  Then I said this is my only choice with regards to my health and a procedure that I paid over 9K for so I guess that is it yes?  And then the placed on hold to be told that Thursday at 3:30 he could see me.  Interesting and once again the manner in which I was spoken to only further contributes to the increasing frustration and rage I feel every time I contact Vanderbilt.  I don't look forward to my appointment where I will communicate only in writing  as it seems to be the only way I can without losing it. And we know if I lose it at Vanderbilt the Cops will come to the door and this is not the time nor place for this and I disagree with my Neighbor that I am over thinking this.  I never thought this way in my life and since coming here I have been open to a way of thought that terrifies me and saddens me. 

I am not sure how I will come out of this but at this point I just want out.



 

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