Rewiring the System


Dawn on day 16, Zap 11

Posted in Uncategorized by rewiringangel on September 9, 2010
Tags: , , , ,

I wake up at dawn. For me to wake before 7 is an oddity. I dash about my apartment getting ready as fast as possible. I brush my teeth but pass on a full face washing and just splash and wipe then dash out to the waiting gray elephant transport. I run around because the doctor apt which is at 8:30 in the city, I might have more traffic than at the 11 o’clock time.
Acts of Bravery are common place in the cancer resource center.

It is true, traffic is a very slow 11 to 18 mph from the first feed just after my highway entrance all the way to the bridge and through the intersections in the red green stop go lighted feed.

On the bridge it is slightly better at almost 25 mph. I am cooked! I will not have any way not to be late for the director of the integrative med and oncology at UCSF. I am amazed that I got an appointment. He choose to see me even though I was a half hour late. He kept looking at his clock in the true René Descartes manner, tic tock, he bobs his head toward his watch and I look on knowing that I am glad to meet him any way he comes..

What did I or could I get form this meeting? The papers with ways to eat and what to eat and maybe more and the fact that he had some thoughts about me he has as yet to share. I will see him for another half hour at his request. And that I should take up Yoga. Chair Yoga… O.K. I will try it since I love trying new things.
sigh…

It turns out that mostly he hands me papers and tells me I am too this and that and I got cancer because I am overweight. He mentions the Positive – Positive type cancer that was cut out after I say something slightly scientific. I do not remember what caused him to open up some stuff about the end of the gene strand of my very own cancer plant. He says you ‘have to slim down a whole lot’, ‘I don’t mean really gaunt’. He said!
GAUNT! are you kidding. using that word to a stressed out overwhelmed sad hearted woman is an outrage.

I listen and think and I hear a strain of unkindness toward a new patient and a general not caring It is a Irrevence of how he is perceived since he knows he is right and that is all there is to know. He is there on that side of the coat and I am no in a coat. He leaves for a few seconds or a minute and comes back in with a tower of books.

It is just showing the books. Here are books! I get handed a print out xerox of the covers of the dozen of the ones he wants me to read. Again, he is not hearing that I have a brain injury that makes his request impossible. I make a joke that I will delight in being read to listening to the words … but it was lost in the non movement of the filaments in his inner ear. It works like this: Hair cells are the sensory receptors of both the auditory system and the vestibular system in all vertebrates. In mammals, the auditory hair cells are located within the organ of Corti on a thin basilar membrane in the cochlea of the inner ear. They derive their name from the tufts of stereocilia that protrude from the apical surface of the cell, a structure known as the hair bundle, into the scala media, a fluid-filled tube within the cochlea. Mammalian cochlear hair cells come in two anatomically and functionally distinct types: the outer and inner hair cells. Damage to these hair cells results in decreased hearing sensitivity, i.e. sensorineural hearing loss.

He asks me if I am from one or another of the boroughs! I say something about Valley Forge but throw in an address in Manhattan.
He is on a roll.

I am told to never again use any milk products.

He gives me the old droll, that I wrote about in my journalist days, about cow milk for cows and on and on that we are the only animal that continues to use the stuff from teats after we grow. Is he implying that anyone who uses milk is not fully grown? Probably not. He means that milk makes us all sick. No more cottage cheese ever. Those words delivered with the guarded slur or lear as though he knows secret things that I will never understand. I make some comment but he continues that cottage cheese, in fact all cheese is very inflaming to my insides.

I have a series of inflammatory conditions, I am told. I do not venture to share my research for the last few days since it would be a waste of time. He has his certain agenda. I feel like I am on a strange vegan salad spinner.

What did I get out of my time with this doctor? hat can I take with me that it is special? It is because he has just so few hours with patients, so I am special to someone who got me this slot.

I come away with the strong impression that no matter what I said about not being able to read and understand clearly the 2 inches of papers, it was not going to change this interchange. Ahhh, again, I am my own advocate in the gladiator pit of health care. I do not know what I would do if I did not have the wonderful Dr Joel. He is normal and treats me for the person I am. I did say and continue to make sure you know I am just one person in a world of people. I am not everything and all that.

I cannot do certain mental linear things at all! Because of the way I look or something of the way I move my head to the side or the color of my eyes or ??? Most people think I know everything. So Not True.

This cancer journey is showing me the moving pictures of what people call life.

I see the interaction of one to another bringing only the hard line of one size fits to all situations. I felt my time this morning was to beat into me his ideas and the shape they will construct.

It is better a shape than the other health care system I had when I had no place of my own to call home. This is entirely better than the last medical center that is a bee hive of possibility but moving so fast that only a few get any health care.

I have been to the treatment table and I have made it through another day of radiation. I am told that the tattoo they placed on my body to lineup the single like of energy was made too small and they are going to draw with an indelible chemical purple dart a cross on the under skin ink spots.

It is really unnecessary to give me this information. A case of too much information to the patients. What could I say? No? Not a chance of my being helped by the dedicated staff if I say or do anything. There is no interest in dialogue with the process.

All bodies are leaning into the wind as one form and any deviation would be noticed as an abortion: to abhor! I will try and find someone to help me get the information out of the stacks of papers I have collected since This started.

Funny, how things get turned around to fit some outside form. I needed my triple A card and tried to find it the last three days. Today I asked Tom to try so he set about doing a little search and came up with the card filed in a folder labeled SMOG!

It is Irrational filing from three people whose total event was to serve me and help ORGANIZE ‘for my use’ the files of both practical things and research philosophical. It is a real mess if the auto card is in SMOG folder. The smog folder has all the paperwork for the three smog checks I have had in the near past.
I must get ready for another day and sleep now. I am sooo tired. I sit up to read and fell asleep for two hours just now…

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