Friday, February 11, 2022

Friday, February 11, 2022

   I slept well. I hadn't been getting up at 5:30. It was so dark. I made it out for my morning walk with Elsa by 6 am. It was still pitch black. We're past the winter solstice; the days are supposed to be getting longer. I don't see any evidence of that. Darby explained to me the other day why I'm not seeing a change in the morning. She said we were in a period when the day gets a little longer at sunset but not at sunrise. I have no idea why that happens. 

    I had a chiropractic appointment this morning at what I thought was 8:30 am. I set my alarm for 7:30 for my shower and 8 am for my departure time. Halfway there, the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number but answered. The voice said, "You missed your chiropractic appointment. You have to reschedule." I flipped out. I had two appointments this morning. It sounded like she had canceled both because I had missed the first. I cracked. I way overreacted. In the past, if I got a call like that, I'd say, "Oh, shit!" and let it go at that. Today, I was devastated. I said, "You're telling me to just go home." She hung up on me. When I arrived at the office, the chiropractor was standing at the door waiting for me. I said, "Are you going to let me in?" I understood I had overreacted. I missed my chiropractic appointment for treatment of my left foot. The work she did was helpful. The second appointment was for an hour-long electronic something or another that she said would help calm my nervous system. Well, it had its work cut out for it.   The receptionist with who I had spoken was nowhere to be seen. I suspect she was as traumatized by the exchange as I was. 

    While the woman did nothing wrong, she didn't do a good job either. When delivering bad news, it's worthwhile taking a reassuring tone rather than a mechanical one. Something like, "Hi, Betty. Are you okay? You were supposed to be here at 8 am." Whatever, she was not responsible for the depth of my response. However, I told her, "You're telling me you've canceled both my appointments and should just go home." As it wound up, she did cancel both, assuming I don't know what. My best guess is she's not good a delivering bad news and compensates by becoming officious. Bad solution. The receptionist is usually a delightful lady. I don't think either of us will recover easily from that exchange.

    I arrived in time for my second appointment for the electronic treatment. I lay down on the massage table in a side room. The chiropractor asked me if I had plenty of water to drink. I said, "Yes. I had two cups of water." She said, "You were supposed to have two quarts of water." Huh? This is the first she defined 'plenty of water.' She also said, "Make sure you don't have a complex emotional experience today." I had a therapy appointment scheduled for 11. I told her I had an appointment at 11. True, she hadn't known it was a therapy appointment, but she did know that I shouldn't take on emotionally challenging situations. How did she know I didn't have a meeting with a lawyer, the school principal because my child was having problems, or a luncheon date with a difficult friend, etc., etc. She didn't know what I had on my schedule, but she did know that I needed to take it easy. Why was she only telling me now-now when there was nothing I could do about the water consumption or my schedule for the rest of the day. 

  After half an hour, the chiropractor returned to the room to adjust the electronic flow. I asked her, "Two quarts over what period of time?"  "In the two hours before the procedure." You've got to be kidding me?!! You're telling me this now. I only thought those words. I said, "I would never have done this procedure if you had told me that." She said a lot of people feel that way. Thinking she thought consuming that much water was out, I told her, "While the consumption might have been a problem, the real problem was at the other end. After drinking two quarts of water, I would spend most of that hour in the bathroom rather than the treatment room." I left without rescheduling. The receptionist was nowhere in sight. I assumed she was hiding from me. While I might – or might not- recover from the trauma of our exchange, if she was hiding, I doubted she ever would.   I had been harboring thoughts of finding a chiropractor covered by insurance for a while. I had been reasonably satisfied with her service. I was also given a reason to switch; she missed an important aspect of my condition. But that story is for another day.

   When I got out, there was a text from Yvette saying that Scott would be repairing a broken fence today. The front gate was closed when I arrived at the house. I honked repeatedly.  

Scott eventually came to open the gate. I apologized for not texting instead of honking. It wasn't just Scott I needed to apologize to. I needed to walk throughout the neighborhood apologizing. No one, and I mean no one, honks their horn here. It never happens. It's one of the things that makes living here so lovely.  

    I went down to look at Scott's handiwork. He is very gifted. All his work is artistry. I asked him where he learned to do it. He said from his dad and smiled. Scott's relationship with his dad had a ragged edge to it, but working with him on construction was a joy. His dad was very gifted. Scott was obviously proud of his dad.

    I had a session with Shelly. First, I told her about my experience with the 22-year-old girl she recommended as a temporary guest until she settled here in Hawaii. I told Shelly I found her passive. She was unwilling to ask for what she wanted. Shelly said she found her aggressive. She was so aggressive with her mother that she nearly gave her a heart attack. What??? Why in God's name did Shelly suggest that I have this girl stay in my home at any time, no less when I'm alone and having difficulty myself. I had a clear image of this girl nesting into my home, not relating well to me, and not having any clear plans for developing her own life. Why bother when she had someone she could live off of. OMG!  

      While I wasn't as hysterical as in our last session, I was in a disturbed state, asking for help. Shelly was throwing practical suggestions at me. I am never looking for practical suggestions from a therapist. One of my concerns was the lack of positive feedback from clients. I do good work, but some people said they were taking the summer off and never called me. That hurt. The only parent who has said anything positive is adolescent D's mother. She appreciated that it was unlikely that anyone else could have helped her son. Some methods might have helped him if properly administered, but he needed a teacher who considered his ego. Also, I was able to make some changes in his perceptual system. 

   Shelly pointed out that people may reject me because of my age. Great! I have started worrying about it. I don't think I needed to hear it. I think I worry more about my looks in general than my age, but they're related. 

     I had two recommendations for a new chiropractor, one from the PT and one from the acupuncturist. I got on the site the KP customer service rep had directed me to. It still wasn't working. "No results" was all I got and all I had gotten for a month straight. I called KP customer service to complain. This rep worked with me to get on the site. She said I had to get in through the KP site, not directly, as I had been told by the previous rep.   She must have spent an hour with me. She gave me the same address over and over, but it didn't work. Finally, we got through. I was so done; I didn't check the names to see if Kaiser covered them.

     The guest on NPR's Science Friday talked about grief. The speaker spoke of the neurological aspect of grief. She said the imprint of the other person stays with us for a long time. Our brains expect to see them. This changes the concept of denial. It's not denial because it's not conscious. The speaker described one experiment with an animal, like a rat. The rat was put in a box with Legos for long enough to imprint that image on its mind. Then they put the animal in a container without the Legos. They could see that the rat's brain still 'saw' the Legos present. Adapting to something new is difficult.  

      My imprint of Mike has run out. I am finally all alone. Wow! This is hard. I think I'm falling apart. I am not doing well. Mostly, I think I look like I am okay, except for my meltdown this morning. I wondered what Shelly was thinking about, recommending this girl stay in my house when she knew she could be capable of vicious verbal attacks. What the hell is going on? I seem to have the capacity to bring out the worst in therapists. 

   I spoke to John, my hanai sister's husband, today. She's been home from the hospital since Monday. I had heard some of the stories. I thought she was supposed to come home on Tuesday. John said that both Jean and he had assumed they would be able to drive home together and she would spend time in her own bed recuperating. These days, they get you up and walking almost as soon as you come out of the anesthesia and send you home after your first poop. But that was not the case with Jean.

    During the discharge process, they first learned Jean would have to spend time in a rehab facility for at least 10 days. They said they would send her to a place close to an hour away from where they lived. John said that wouldn't work. When they checked, they discovered one right in their retirement community. Perfect. John could walk over there every day and spend time with her.  

   The other surprising news was that Jean would be traveling by ambulance, not in her own car, with John driving. The ambulance ride was hell. I once rode in an ambulance. It is one bumpy ride. I hate to think how painful it was for Jean with her recent back surgery.  

    Ambulance rides are bumpy because there needs to be more equipment in the vehicle than the springs can support. They would need an ambulance the size of a truck to provide a smooth ride. All's well that ends well. Jean survived the ambulance ride and was safely ensconced in a rehab facility within walking distance of her home.