Dream log: June 20, 2017

I am with my father and my sister. My mother is not around. I am not sure if she’s gone or dead. Dead, I think.

My father has gone off. My sister is 3 or 4 and I am 6 or 7. I am taking care of her. We are at a park and I am trying to get food. It is Thanksgiving. It is not cold, it’s warm. There are large family groups at picnic tables.

My technique is to move in on a family group. We play near them and I listen for adult names. We play close enough that I can hear but not close enough to impinge on the group. When they start to clean up and take things to the cars, I am ready. I slip in and hold my hands out for a bowl. The adult looks at me. “Aunt Norma’s.” I say confidently, because I know which bowl belongs to each adult. And which bowl I want. The adult hands me the bowl. They can’t remember which kid I am, but I know Aunt Norma’s name….I head confidently with the bowl towards the cars and quickly slide it under my loose sweatshirt. I bypass the cars and head around to my sister.

Now the game changes a little. We have a couple bowls so she guards them. I work the next table alone and score a left over turkey.

The problem now is that we cannot carry it all to the car in one trip. I debate about safety. We are living in the car. I tell my sister to stay with the rest of the food and I leave her, carrying the turkey. It’s still light and there are still a lot of people around. She is sitting on the curb, bowls behind her, between two family groups. I will get the turkey to the car and then run back to her. The two of us can carry the rest of the food in one trip. Then we will have food for a while. She should be safe.

I wake up.

I took the photograph within the last month. What and where is it?

 

The pending healthcare bill

I’ve just seen an article from the American Academy of Family Physicians that more and more solo and small practices are closing.

Call your Congressperson, because the thing that is most likely to close my small clinic and clinics near you is the latest healthcare bill passing.

That is, to be even more specific, the thing that will most likely close MY one doctor clinic is THAT I WON’T BE ABLE TO AFFORD HEALTH INSURANCE.

Really? Oh, yes.

I was sick for ten months, June of 2014 until April of 2015. I managed to hire a physician’s assistant by November of 2014 and I returned to work April of 2015. I was only allowed to work half time initially, for a year. Actually, quarter time. Because the latest article on primary care has average salaries. What interests me is that every doctor they interviewed who is earning the “average” is working 60-70 hours a week.

So when I returned to work I was allowed to work half days. That is, four hours a day. So, 20 hours a week. One third to one quarter time.

Also I was paying for my own insurance and I had a $5000.00 deductible. Which I had to pay in both 2014 and 2015. I also had to spend retirement money and savings to keep the clinic open. Negative earnings and using up savings in 2014 and 2015. I worked 20 hours a week for a year. And guess what? My income for 2015 qualified me for Obamacare in 2016.

No deductible. By April of 2016 I am released to “full time”. But I have learned my lesson. My sister died in 2012 and my father in 2013 and these deaths were the trigger for me getting sick. I can’t retire yet. I have burned through savings for three years. I choose to work 40 hours a week.

This means that I stop seeing patients by 2:00 pm. I still do an eight hour day because there is at least three hours of phone calls, insurance prior authorizations, lab results, x-ray results, specialist letters — like yesterday. The specialist says the patient should have an MRI. But the patient is a veteran. So the specialist says I should order it. That means filling out the paperwork for the VA authorization, mailing the order to the patient, calling the patient to remind them that triwest will throw my order away unless the patient calls to get the test authorized. Yep. And the specialist gets paid 3-4 times what I make. How nice.

I also choose longer visits. The local hospital kicked me out of their clinics because I protested about a daily patient quota. I was not diplomatic. And I don’t care, because two years later they decided I was right and lowered it. And I like my private clinic better.

BUT if Congress passes this healthcare bill and I return to over $1000.00 per month health insurance for me and a 19 year old daughter, and with a $5000.00 deductible…. I don’t know. I think I will run a Go Fund Me and ask President Trump and my Congresspeople to donate to pay my health insurance and keep me open.

And by the way: I think Congress should have the same health care as their constituents. Give the ones over 65 medicare and the ones under 65 medicaid. Let them experience what older Americans and disabled and poor experience. And don’t let them bypass it with cash, either.

Call Congress. Stop the bill. Thank you.

 

I am a board certified board eligible family doctor for over 30 years, who has chosen to do rural medicine the entire time. I am small and ordinary…. like this song sparrow.

For the Daily Prompt: meddle.

sleepy head

This is a story my mother told. When we were little, my sister and I lived with our parents in a small house near Ithaca, NY. We each had a bedroom downstairs. Our parents had their bedroom upstairs. We were not allowed up there, because the stairwell came to the middle of a hall and there was no railing at all. They were afraid that we would fall down.

I am three years older. I’m not sure I was always a good sister.

One weekend morning, my parents were lying in bed in their room, quite early. Suddenly a very round three year old face popped up at the end of the bed, with a wicked gleam, and spoke:

“Boodie with a yellow bill
hopped upon my windowsill
cocked his shining eye and said
“Ain’t you shamed, you sleepy head?”

And then my sister raced out of the room and down the stairs.

My mother said that when they got over their stunned laughter, they came downstairs to talk to us. I had coached my sister until she could recite perfectly, aside from the missing r. I think we got a mild scolding about the safety of the stairs, but since they were still laughing, I don’t think we took it seriously.

previously published on everything2.com, a slightly different version

art and horses

I refuse to take the arrows
refuse to step on the hawser
say yes to Artemis
but by building her a statue
not taking on her role

I am a mere human
not a goddess

Hestia interests me
at first she does not appeal
home fires burn
my home is messy and creative
which is an excuse
to keep people out
only a few people
a select few
may enter

horse because hest
in Danish is horse
but this is Greek
but I play with words
women are the draft horses of the home

I have avoided that
by marrying a house husband
who agreed to stay home
until the kids were old enough
and then to work

he lied

I am not sorry

he’s working now

with my daughter launched
last child
what next?

I see singles
forming couples
marrying and divorcing

Beloved
I love you first
writing poetry
and medicine

and who is my muse?
I am female
and we have none

Gods and Goddesses
alike
I do not want to be held
to one
dedicated
to one

Beloved
you are all
you are one

you are my muse

My daughter looks so comfortable, doesn’t she? She looks as if she is standing quiet.

But I took that with a zoom lens. Really, she is here:

matinenda 2 049

say yes