Hey, Miss J!

In all honesty, for me, waking up and getting out of bed is a decision that teaches me.

Every. Single. Day.

Minor rant.

For years, I have conceded in nearly everything that my family asked of me. Mind, this is my immediate family on dad’s side… because my immediate family on my mom’s side are all deceased.

Including her.

So, I was going through a bout of frustration and stress in 2023. I had to meet with the supervisor to my psychiatrist. After that meeting, I asked my caseworker why the man hated me so much. I was assured that he did not hate me.

But I know better.

I’ve experienced something similar in other doctors’ offices.

One of them asked me to walk on my toes, then heels and asked me why he did that. I explained I didn’t know, and he told me that I was an intelligent young woman and should know.

I told him I was not a medical professional, and he explained in a ‘duh’ tone that it was to test my nerves and balance.

…

He also claimed he stood for surgery for over 12 hours and didn’t complain about back pain.

He then told me that I would be back in a year for surgery or pain medication.

I have toyed with the idea of sending him a card to thank him for being so thoroughly degrading and insulting to me. Then, let him know that he should remember he and I are different people, which is why I had come to him for medical assistance with my spine. And finish off by stating that I now pretend to be completely ignorant when I meet doctors so I’m not treated as horribly.

Because he was extremely disrespectful.

But…

Would it be worth the ink?

…

It may or may not matter, but this was a white doctor. And his comment about me being ‘an intelligent young woman,’ could have been a slight to my sex, my race or both. However, the way he looked at me and how shocked he was when he saw just how bad my back was… Mind, this was after asking me what I wanted… if I was after meds. That leads me to believe it was sadly both.

I did feel amusement when the doctor told me he’d never seen a spine with a disc deteriorating like that in someone my age. I stated: “Gee doc, I’d like to not be the first one… Maybe number fifty?”

Not saying that jerks can’t be found in all shapes, sizes and colors. But… this was the first time I’d ever had a white doctor be nasty. The doctor he stood in for was also an idiot.

Yes.

Sent me to PT, then asked me what I wanted after I came back to the doctor. After I was told to come back after I finished PT.

Me: “I came back as your associate told me to.”

Him: “But, what do you want me to do?”

Me: “… I’m not a doctor. Why did you want me to come back?”

Him: “That doesn’t tell me what you want from me.”

…

Now, when I meet medical professionals, I try to act as confused as possible. I also mash up my conversation and press it down like I did years ago in my old field.

Smaller, shorter words. Slightly slurred speech. Lots of ‘uh’s tossed in. Some ‘blank’ stares. And light nods while the doctor is explaining something that I already know. Then tossing in that slight squint, like when you’re trying to comprehend something.

I’m treated better now.

Which sounds…

I’m aggravated.

I had to break up and break down my speech pattern so that people I worked with wouldn’t feel uncomfortable around me for using ‘big’ words that were part of my daily vocabulary.

Several people have seen through it the longer they speak with me though. But it tends to work with newer physicians.

With my psychiatrist, I was myself. Even without speaking, my behavior is very different than many of the clients there.

…Including from the guy outside constantly screaming, nodding, then screaming again. I found out that drugs are dealt at the nearby bus stop.

It bothered my dad a lot when he was on the phone. He told me to tell the people there to ‘shut up.’ I suggested he come down and do that himself, but to make sure his burial was paid up ahead.

I was not even joking.

Mind, by 2023, I now have this simmering rage over how I’m treated by medical personnel. That supervisor over my psychiatrist was one of them.

I get a call, asking for me to allow my father to borrow my car to get to an appointment. I refused. My family member reminded me that my father taught me to drive. I reminded them that I paid my dad to teach me. And noted that whole car thing–where the car was smashed.

Y’unno… that nasty crash in 2020… where he and my aunt were in that nearly fatal car accident, then him crashing and totaling a new car almost two years later… within the first month of purchase.

I kid you not. He passed out at the wheel, took out a mailbox and plowed through someone’s fence. The fence went right through the windshield and thankfully didn’t have any contact with him. All he had was a slight fracture over his left ankle.

I stated I was not going to let my car be the third one he destroyed, and got a barrage of ‘no no no,’ to which I said: “Yes, yes yes. Remember? You always talk about it. Think I would suddenly forget?”

The end was the same. I refused to let them borrow my car.

How bad is this thing with my family? A friend actually commended me for finally standing up for myself.

I’ve now separated everything from them. Nothing goes up there. No packages, no mail and certainly no me goes up there.

~J. Lyst

Extra: The kittens now have their eyes open. They’re three weeks old now!

I’ll be returning from hiatus soon.

Oh! Forgot to add. My dad got a ride. From his brother. Who lived with him. I told him that it made sense. He said: “My brother had to miss work.”

… And why would I care really? My uncle has three vehicles there. Surely, he can take the day off for a family member that he lives with and take them to a doctor’s appointment. It’s not like its his wife, who he doesn’t live with because he can’t stand her.

Let that one sink in…

His wife also doesn’t like me.

Because I’m female.

I don’t care.

(≖͞_≖̥)

My family is weird.