Caduceus Hair

A physician says to me, “You might have had more friends and been more successful in your career if you had been put on medication a long time ago.”

I think, “You f—ing bitch.” Nothing shows on my face. The doctor face is pleasant on the surface and the stone face that guards my feelings is deeper. I could show you the snakes and you would turn to stone but I would go to jail.

Your words don’t go away. They fester, a deep deep wound. I ask my other doctor, “If my only symptom of pneumonia is my mood, no white count, no fever, how would I know if I had pneumonia if I were medicated?”

I think back. Age twenty five with belly pain, emergency room, CT scan and then a sigmoidoscopy. I couldn’t eat, it hurt so bad. The emergency room offers me valium. “No,” I say, “my father is an alcoholic. I won’t take that.” I am sent to counseling. The counselor, smug, blonde, polished, wants to send me to her husband, a psychiatrist, for drugs. “No,” I say, “my father is an alcoholic. I want talk therapy not drugs.” I am very very afraid.

Things get better.  I tell the counselor thank you. “You can’t stop now,” she says, “You must continue the counseling. Or you will have problems later on.” I go once more. She says I must keep coming. I speak to a family friend, a PhD psychologist, who encourages me to say no. I cancel. No regrets.

I am not an alcoholic. I don’t smoke. I don’t use pot nor CBD. I never tried cocaine or meth or opioids or crack. I can tell an addict by their charm: the sick people are not charming nor the people in for maintenance. The moment a person tries to charm me I wonder what they want.

The physician is wrong and cruel besides. Valium is addictive and is still overused. I could have taken the path of psychiatric medicine but I chose not to.

I will find another doctor who is less stupid and cruel. They do exist. I know, because I am one.

____________________________

trap (version II)

why are you so afraid of being trapped?

and it’s attached to women
not to men

that is weird

but we are all weird

I have an explanation
That I won’t share here
Doesn’t matter
doesn’t matter if it is right or wrong

what matters is the pattern
and whether you can break it
and whether you can heal it
and whether you want to heal it
or just repeat it

over and over again

I do not know what you will do
whether you will see the pattern
whether you want to break it
whether you want to heal it

but the pattern is why you chose me
that is clear as glass, as ice, as air
on a very clear cold day

my pattern is that I don’t give up
as you said, I look at things from all sides
I am tolerant to a fault, you say

what matters is my pattern
whether I see the pattern
whether I can break the pattern
whether I want to heal the pattern

and yes I do

I see the pattern thanks to you
what matters is the pattern
I will break the pattern
I will heal the pattern

thank you, love

sometimes we must cut the abscess open
and drain the pus
or rebreak the bone that has healed wrong
or amputate the gangrenous fingers
to save the rest

I see the pattern
I change it
I heal

_______________

May 27, 2022

Love whole

I loved my liar sister
I love her still

That’s what makes them angry
that I love my liar sister
even though she lied
even though she hurt me
even though she lied to them

That’s what makes them angry
that I love my liar sister
they want to love her lies
they don’t want to know the truth
they want to hide from lies

That’s what makes them angry
they are hella jealous
they want to be loved like that
they want to be loved whole
they want to be loved entire
they want to be loved even when they lie

That’s what makes them angry
they are so afraid to be themselves
they are so afraid to tell the truth
they are so afraid to be honest with each other
they are so tired of hiding

That’s what makes them angry
one says she will be friends
if we only talk about the positive
about my mother, father, sister
I counter: let’s not mention them at all
nor your husband. Not a word.
She doesn’t answer. Silence.

That’s what makes them sad
they don’t want to feel the anger
they deny the heartache
they avoid the longing
they bargain with their souls
they refuse to feel the grief

let us feel the anger
let us feel the heartache
let us feel the longing
let us feel our grief
let us feel our souls

Beloved, we long for you so

Please, Beloved, love us whole

_____________________

My sister sent me a t-shirt from Wicked. She died of cancer in 2012. The deaths from Covid-19 and every death brings her back to me. And this song sums up our relationship.

website ethics and mine

Two days ago I wrote to the owner of the website that “separated” me for “not explicitly breaking the rules”.

I have not gotten an answer.

Doesn’t matter, you say. I disagree. I think our ethics matters and it matters on line. Isn’t that part of what we are fighting about?

Let’s drill down. The editors stated on this obscure not to be named site that they were tightening rules and removing write-ups that should be logs or are just not high enough quality, and letting the writers repost them as logs. So far they have removed over 250 of my writeups. Ironically, I was one of the two most prolific writers in the last year. Let’s kill the golden goose because she’s annoying, won’t we? The other writer has not been “separated”.

I note that they have removed my write up called “birth of ——–“. Now, this interests me. This was a well received write up, had up votes, and was the start of a category. The category was people explaining how they chose their on line name.

So: the editors are liars and abusing their power. They have removed a well received and well liked write up because they have personal animosity towards me. I have protested the removal of 250+ writeups and asked that they be reposted as logs. No answer.

The other writeups in the how I chose my name category are still there. So this is PERSONAL and the editors of the site are unethical.

Therefore, I hope the site dies. Or gets rid of those editors. I think I want it to die, even though it has writing by my sister. This does matter. As a species, we will either learn to be fair and human on line as well as off line, or we will end in conflagration. The site will certainly not be there if we start lobbing nuclear bombs at each other. The owner works for the US government. Why is he/she not paying attention to this obscure website that he/she owns?

Whether or not the world burns this month, if the editors are manifestly unfair on the site, the site will die and deserves to die. I wish that I could have my sister’s drafts before it shuts down.

I ended my email that is not answered with this: Good luck. I hope that ethics matters to both of us.

Thank you.

on line site name

_______________________

I will not name the site here or anywhere again, until and unless those editors are shut down and the site becomes ethical.

We are fighting this fight as a species, as humanity. We have to learn to be as ethical on line as we are in person. Well, you say, some people AREN’T ethical. Yes, that is true. As a rural physician, my goal is to take care of ANYONE WHO COMES IN. The emergency room physician cares for the family of four hit by the drunk and the drunk too, even if there is a dead child in the family of four. We set our judgement aside and do the best for each and every patient, regardless of the story. At least, that is the goal. It is the highest goal I know of.

Blessings and be your ethical self on line. As my children said to me when I threw their father out of the house once, “We don’t care what he does. We want you to be polite to dad no matter what.” And they were RIGHT! We answer to ourselves and to the Beloved and to our children.

Blessings.

The photo is me and my sister, dancing before my wedding in 1989. She died of cancer in 2012.