In Which She Lacks Gratitude
September 23rd, 2004Last night I had dreams about hospitals and surgery and automatic beds and drug-induced, cottony sleep.
My dream state was influenced by a couple of things. First, in an effort to find a more comfortable sleeping position for my throbbing arm, I grabbed an extra pillow and wedged it under my back and behind my head, which sort of forced me to lie upright, and allowed my arm to rest on my stomach and chest and not get pinned under me. I’m a big fetal position, side sleeper, but this just does not work with an injured arm. So, I fell asleep in that somewhat unnatural, hospital-bed-type propped up position.
Second, just before falling asleep, I told my Darl that I was kind of wishing for surgery on my arm.
I know this is wrong in so many ways, but three months of constant, low-level pain, laced with needle-like jabs whenever I move my thumb have worn me down. I want it to be over.
I also know D is frustrated with me for not fully committing to my recovery early on by taking more time off and immobilizing this arm from day one. I am too. Right now, I’m half using my fingers because typing with my left is so. damn. slow. And I keep doing crap like that.
But I truly, honestly want it to be over. I hear that steroid shots often give relief and sometimes cure. I imagine that’s next on my menu of yummy treatments, but I’m afraid of them. Afraid that they will cure me of pain, but not the condition, but because I’ll feel better, I’ll never take time to really heal, and I’ll be dealing with this again in a matter of time.
Or maybe – and this is truly fucked up – I want the legitimacy that surgery would bring to my condition. I would have the betadine stains and sutures and hospital bills to prove to my bosses and the smartass HR director that I am not faking this. I’ll have, finally, the reason – the ORDER – to cease all typing and all work until I truly heal.
My work, a supposed bastion of health and choice, has backed me into a corner where I have to fight for my right to choose my health over revenue. I’ll never forget sitting across from the HR director, pleading for help in dealing with my bosses so that I could get time off to heal this thing, and the callousness with which he responded. I was in tears discussing the pressure I was under to keep my program up and running despite the fact that doing just that got me this injury, and he leaned in and said to me, “If you’re not happy here, you should just leave.” He also pointed out that a broken leg had a lot more verifiable sympathy than tendinitis, not that anyone doesn’t believe me, oh no.
So you see, I want to breathe deeply of some nice general anesthesetic and go to sleep knowing everyone finally believes me.
Thanks for dropping by. I'm Meg, and I write offbeat stories about media and the culture that shapes us.
I understand what you are saying… it is so easy to just let that sort of thing slip by. I know mine is acting up again, too. *hugs and more hugs*
I have had a lot going on in my life.. some good, some bad. My parents’ house burned down on Labor Day, and at the same time, Idoru and I moved into our first home, and since there is room, my parents are staying with me. That has had its own set of challenges… and I am sure it will continue to do so for the next several months.
Not only did they lose their posessions, but they lost two pets, and I think that may be the hardest thing of all. *sigh*
The good part is that all the people got out, and they were able to salvage a few things: family pictures (some of them,) about 70% of my dad’s record collection, and some clothes and a few odds and ends. Nothing else. But something is better than nothing, eh?
The other good thing… I LOVE my house. We got so lucky with this place… it even has a pool!
Drop me a line and I will send you pictures.
In other good news, I am working on putting together a “blog” thing with my Idoru, and one of the things I am going to do is post links to the blogs of friends who are not using OD or BloopDiary. This may mean I will pay a bit more attention. I am glad I get your reminder e-mails, or I would just go my merry way. How easy it is with all the millions of things to do. But I do not want to forget you, lovely Meg.
*much love*
MyssK (at mindspring dot com)
Can I come out to Chicago and kick your HR guy in the, um, knee, for making you cry? A broken leg gets more sympathy? Christ, you can hobble in on crutches and keep typing, for God’s sake.
Sorry, you don’t need me ranting, too.
I think I told you – a fellow CMT had the surgery on one wrist shortly after school – said it felt better than she remembers it feeling in years. YEARS.
Mixed feelings, I know. I want your pain to stop, too.
Fuck the fucking fucker!!!! (my fave new swear thanks to you). Why don’t your doctor’s bills and intense physical therapy sessions prove that this is real? How about spending just five minutes with you and watch your face as you grimace in pain whenever you move that hand. You don’t need their sympathy. You need them to offer what they promise, and that’s a medical leave or sick time or something. What about work-related injury? It’s time to put on your boxing gloves and fight for what you deserve!
~Melly
What’s wrong with surgery?
It’s a strange fact of human nature that humans don’t get pain until they are in it. That’s why I don’t believe Senator McCain was tortured just as much as the guy who gave information but he somehow didn’t cave… He’s just plain lying. AT some point you cave, even if you don’t remember doing it. Ever see that movie with Mel Gibson where he’s tortured to death at the end and they have him on a slab for all to see and we just see his face and hes grinding his teeth but not screaming or making even a peep while they eviscerate him with garden implements? That’s just *psycho* bull$hit. That’s a whole planet of bulldoodoo compacted down to the size of a tennis ball forming a dense, sharp gravity well threatening to rip space time.
Frederick W. Taylor, a famous efficiency expert who lived in the late 1800′s said of the Industrial Revolution that in the past (in America) the system served the ppl., from now on the people will serve the system. This is why factory schooling was instituted about that time; to raise up human resources…
As a consequence we live in a dog eat dog world and the dogs like it that way (being incomplete adults after a childhood spent in school and lacking imagination). In other words, it’s naive to expect ppl. to behave like they give a hoot. They simply won’t unless you have some kind of leverage on them, or at the very least, they don’t have any leverage on you because you’re rich enough that it doesn’t matter. Whenever someone who was part of something larger, an institution or whatever, was nice it was because it was in the rules for them to be nice, not because they were thinking for themselves. Your best strategy is to not waste your time with anyone unless you already know that you have some kind of leverage on them, either coming from you (if you’re rich enough to afford lawyers etc.) or from some other direction. Going to ppl. in the same way one goes to a pastor for counseling will get you a lot of callous treatment. Institutions are psychotic and to function in one you too must compromise yourself and become psychotic — that is, act according to dictates of the machine (corporation). If you were in the HR persons place, you might have had a different manner (or you might have hardened yourself to function in that position in a callous way — it’s amazing what any one of us can do through rationalization — and to escape cognitive dissonance) but you wouldn’t have been any help to the person sitting across from you because it simply isn’t provided for in the programming of the machine of which you are a part. Everyone’s hands are tied. So the practical advice is to not bother getting tensed up over something you can’t do anything about. If the only way to get justice is to be rich enough to afford lawyers and court costs and you don’t have that kind of money then you have to just let it go (and be vigilant about getting backed into such a position — such as not getting suckered into handing your money to a con artist over the internet, etc.). Unless you have some kind of leverage on people, avoid the stress on your heart muscle fuming over it and vowing to crush them when you know darn well it will never happen unless Bill Gates decides to make a hefty deposit to your bank account or you have an Uncle who is an executive in the company. Just kick back and work out a way to come at the problem such that you will have the leverage on ppl. to get them to move (making sure they are compelled to by their own rules, etc. etc. etc. could be anything – so long as it’s leverage). In other words, as a human resource, don’t treat others as anything other than human resources. Don’t ask yourself, “will this person help me?” Ask yourself, “will the system be obliged to hand over this or that service if I go for it?” If the answer is yes, then the lump of meat behind the desk will help you. If not then that lump of meat sitting behind the desk can’t help you, even if they’re Santa Claus.
All of this bullshoy is why I’m voting for Ralph Nader. None of the incidental issues within a system will ever be solved while the system itself is sick (but you can keep secure the funding, and the salaries, coming in with the right politicians in office…). While schools crank out human resources, dependent and indifferent in their natures; what good does it do to try and fight against apathy while still living under that paradigm? This is why I believe that parents who are opting against letting schools raise their young are doing more to usher in the future than anyone in the world no matter how much funding they get or how many pamphlets they send out or how rich and powerful they are. As my good friend Max Planck once said, “A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it”.
I had no idea work was giving you such grief! For chrissakes!! I wish you fast healing – I guess anyway you can get it. I worry about you, ya know!
PS – We are mid-honeymoon. Thank you so much for making the trek down…esp with all the discomfort you are in. I REALLY appreciated it!
And I will get your goodie bag in the mail in…a few days when I’m back in the Homeland.
I’d go with the following plan:
#1 surgery
#2 Sadly, job-search while recouperating
#3 After you’re ok, go to new job and site “Mr. Jerkly” HR as your reason.
Yeah, this is all off the cuff. But sometimes ya gotta go with your gut.