Saturday, February 25, 2017

In a stunning bit o' irony, today I had to tell a family member to eat more and this is the same family that used to perpetually tell me to eat less. 

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P has a cold and things have been crappy and as it turns out, I'm one of those cluckers. You know like, clucking over him with this continual, Are you okay? Can I get you something? Can I get you something to drink? Are you warm enough? sort of a thing which makes me, once again, grateful that I've not been cast in the roll of The Caregiver. 

Perish the thought. 

It's also telling that when your person is experiencing some stuff-how you can't change it-you have to watch and let them work it out. 

Easier said than done, yo. 

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We were watching Orange is the New Black and I could not believe when I saw Fig perform the maneuver. Nobody even asked me what the maneuver even was(!) from my last post-making me think I'm talking to myself but for that one person listening to me in Singapore, here's the maneuver:

It's a little scribbley, huh. 


Okay here's what you do. You put your opposite hand in the cup and you lift your tissue up and across. The idea is to fill the cup completely. Then you do the other one. 

You're welcome Singapore. 

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I did something brave and heroic last week. It only took me like oh six months or something. The last surgery was six months ago and ever since-in some effort to attempted to recapture my finances-I've been working my ass off. No, really. Three jobs, social media every other week, angsting about my art and the rest of the time complaining about how tired I was. Even I heard myself after the 27 thousandth lamentation and believe me when I say it, that shit got old. 

If your parents were from the deeeeeeeeeepressssion, getting rid of a shift is like slicing your own throat with an emery board, right? But Gilda's Club offers improv and when last I stepped off the improv platform-it was because the person in charge sort of off-handedly suggested 'Finding out you have cancer' as a basis for a scene and here was I barely glued together along the line of my giant red scar. 

I never looked back. 


But Gilda's Club, I thought, would be safe. And I have got, I thought to myself, to make a change. 
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One day, last week I went to refill my all-important Vitamin D. No big deal, right? Got to the counter, and our friend the pharmacist kinda whispers, which insurance do you have now? And I say,(not whispering because my shame left the building ages ago) I think I have XYZ. I thought I had ABC but someone told me I don't have that anymore. So yeah, XYZ. 

She looks at her screen. Hmm. Bad hmmm. Yeah that doesn't show up for you and (big pause)yeahhhh even on the sort of generic insurance coverage listing? You don't have XYZ.

Huh. Says I. Well, uhhh until I get that straightened out? Can I just buy some regular Vitamin D? Well yeah, she says and then she looks at the prescription. Wait, no. You'd have to take like...her voice drifts off. I said well that's okay. I can take a bunch of them. She said, the prescription is for 1.25 MG. The 50,000 unit. 

Oh. 

That meant a trip to an office not very far away. But you know, it's just like the library and how you go through your life relying heavily on some spot on the Dewey Decimal system, until you move on to the next one and pretty soon after a bunch of years, you've covered quite a bit of the third floor?

This is a building on a street I've driven 100 times but I never turned my head to even know I'd be visiting there one day. It was very crowded with people of every color-I kinda kicked myself for choosing neon green as my jacket color of choice because it seemed to make everyone who wanted to cut through the line to get to the end? I guess neon green indicates a cutting point. Go figya. There was even a guy with an illustrated face. Completely tattooed and that led to a lot of thinking about why that terrified me which gave me something to think about. 

I was there long enough to smile at the lady in front of me and the one behind. We were all too hot and there was one spot in line where you could actually feel some air and that got us talking about snow. 

Anyway, I got to the front and learned that 'due to a glitch in the system' (people actually use that phrase-can you f-ing believe it?), I was indeed eligible for insurance and I received a copy of a list of Important Numbers to Call and I said to the woman with green gem studded fingernails, does this mean I get to get out of here? Yes, she said. 

Phew. 


Anyway, called the number and apparently by March 1st? I'll be back in business. 

Good Lawd Have Mercy. 

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