Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Still Trying to Row Upstream

The interesting two week, plus a day or two, stay on Point Loma is over.   Regardless of how the picture looked to me, I had responsibilities that directly affected others, not to mention the implied agreement and commitment to fulfill expectations.  That kept the depression at bay to a degree.  No choice about letting it swallow me up.  Animals had to be fed and I needed to be sure the house was as good or better when the owners returned.

No question that there is a remarkable bond between Frank, the dog, and myself.  I am not a dog person but I had to make an exception.  This dog knows stuff and must have been to counselor school sometime in his past.  We communicate very well.

I taught  him to sit and lay down without actually having to teach him.  He just knows what I am talking about.  Besides, laying down is his got-to condition in response to almost any stimulus.   But he would also come when I ask.  And he would wait when I asked, like "wait before jumping out of the car or into the car.  Their car, not mine.

It is rare I like a creature that much.  I will miss Mr. Relaxation, without a doubt.  Never did see Lucy and Baxter again.  I always dod the Shelter Island walks just at dawn.  Out of there by full sunrise.  I like it better with fewer people and hardly any other people with dogs.  Most are OK, but plenty have creepy dogs or are creepy people.   If you have a hell dog, why even go out where other people go?

I feel a little nervous about canceling doctor visits, but, really, this guy is not offering insights and even interested enough to familiarize himself with my case very well, or concerned enough to refresh his scant knowledge prior to the visit.  Just a look at the file would help.  But maybe his notes are so scant that he gets the wrong picture from reading them. We will see how the new plan works.  These are may records so it should not be so hard to get copies of what I want.  I'll get to the lab thurs or fri. And then see what the Iowa guy says.  Something seems not quite right, or else I am only imagining things and only think I feel this way.

I'd say the blues are enemy number one, and being a plural word, maybe two and three as well.

Another session at Hard Rock Cafe on Thurs.  I played there a week ago last monday with another group.  The sound man is getting used to me.   I do not understand why we are practicing with one bass player but doing the gig with another.  Entirely different styles and approaches.  One is a young guy with not too much experience, but a natural intuition and ability to be part of the whole which is rare.  The other one is highly educated, much more jazz oriented and does not give off the vibe of being part of the unit so much.  A good player but I don't know.  Plus when someone tells stories which cannot possibly be true, for whatever reason, it makes things awkward.

Much of that is likely due to the avoidance of admitting being born and having children as one sex, then deciding the real person inside is the other sex, and identifying like that.  No clue if surgery ever happened or not.  Not many are actually fooled.  But it is off-putting.  I'm sorry, but it is a pretense of sorts which I endure out of deference to the front person and Karen the viola player.  It is Sande's group, and she knows I'd rather just stick with one bass player right now, and play just the three of us when that one cannot play.

Truthfully, I am too ground down to take on these battles anyway.  As long as I can play and add interest or excitement, and make practices, that's all I need worry about. I have enough of simple life fears as it is.  Keep worrying I will kick before getting stuff straightened out and shielded against the state.   What the hell is wrong with people that they ever let the state hold life's work or accumulation hostage, as if anything family or designated heirs receive is up to the government?

Seriously sick and jealous people rationalize anything when it comes to what others should do or not.

I hope I get the simple stuff taken care of.  That would make life much better.  Maybe I won't even kick any time soon, although I would not put money on it.  Not unless things change.  They'll not get it figured out on their own.  The health care debacle is another sort of civilized institution which has long evolved on an aberrant course.  The doctor-as-God motif has been pushed for as long as I can remember.  Mostly that is just a money making image.  And the bureaucracy has crept in for many decades.  This latest iteration with buy-or-die insurance only enhanced the really stupid aspects.  Maybe some have benefitted.

I hear horror story after horror story of dismissive physicians, here in San Diego, usually at the same outfit where my less than satisfactory doctor can be found. But not exclusively.  Many stories of lame diagnoses with physicians discounting the patients story of symptoms etc., with either dire consequences or eventually the patient find someone else who gets it right.  But the arrogant ones never admit their mistake.  All is the patient's fault even when it makes no sense in light of facts.

I would walk away from it all now if I had my life and house in order.  I really would.  I am afraid to do that now because I don't think I can get much done without trying to control some blood level issues.  I cannot wait until I feel organized enough to get away from the medical system.  I hate the attitude, assumptions, and method of operation about as much as I do the intrusiveness and master of the people mentality of government agencies.   Remember when motrin required a prescription?  That is insanely corrupt and insulting.  The setup sucks, despite the remarkable progress over the years in procedures and all that.  The administrative structure, and prescription set up is pure nonsense.

Hell with it.  I am preoccupied with my own illness and I am sorry that I am.  We will quit doing that soon.  I will begin a conscious effort to not discuss it at all if I can.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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