Murphy and the Pollyanna Man

I made myself a nice homemade stirfry for lunch and went out to sit and eat it at the camp table I'd set up on the edge of the driveway. As I went out, one of my favorite symphonies came on the radio and then the man two houses away came out and started vacuuming his car with a very loud vacuum cleaner.

Murphy, I grumbled to myself. The noise really bothers me, and there was a nice symphony inside. The noise set my teeth on edge and tightened my shoulders and neck.

But eventually, the man stopped vacuuming and peace returned. I thought of how if a good symphony comes on while I'm inside, I happily enjoy it. It's probably random and not a plot against me. And I was out numerous times before without having to hear the vacuum cleaner.

And that reminded me of the Pollyanna Man who used to live with us at the Lake House. Whenever anything bad happened, he'd always say, "Well, it could have been worse. " No matter how terrible something was, he always said that. Some pretty bad things happened and we used to laugh at his Pollyanna attitude. But why not? What's so bad about always expecting that you're getting the universe's best, rather than it's worst?

And I think how so many people these days don't know Pollyanna and have never read her book. It is actually a pretty good book--I liked it.

I had more to say on this topic but no more time to write right now. Except this: when I went back out to eat the rest of my lunch, hoping for peace and quiet and sunshine, a man came out on one side with a chainsaw and another on the other side with a lawnmower and when I went back in, there was some horrible music playing. Round two: Murphy 3, Pollyanna, 0. I guess it could have been worse. There could have been a nuclear holocaust outside. Remember: things can always get worse.

On the Wastebeds

I found this. Really!

On the wastebeds, near the old cars, above the State Fair parking lot, on the slag cliffs.

Really.

It's a rubber mask, very lightweight, and next time I go back if it's still there, I hope to put it in a plastic bag and take to the Heidelberg Project.

It's not something I personally have a lot of use for, but I found it interesting.

I have to hurry, before the nettles get too deep and it gets too hot to walk on the wastebeds.

Small murphyism: The phone didn’t ring all day. But when I was filling shampoo bottles for my upcoming trip and a big blurpo came out all over my hand and the bottle, the phone rang. Of course. Murphy.

click to view image (by me) bigger.

Not Quite the Inquisition

There is a form of abuse called Gaslighting when the abuser does everything in his power to confuse the abusee. It was made famous by much discussion and counter interpretations of the story, "The Yellow Wall Paper," by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Yesterday, I was confused.

I went to my new sleep doctor, doctor Policherla, having been told I would be there for a brief consultation, and then I was subjected to nerve conduction tests because I had no reflexes at all in a routine reflex check. I was told the test was nothing, that it was gentle, that it was just a little tingle. I told them I had had it before and found it terrible, and they said Dr. Policherla was gentle and it wasn't bad at all.

It was HORRIBLE!

It was 45 minutes of receiving electrical shocks and my whole body convulsed and it HURT. It was not gentle (although the technician seemed to want to be gentle and to be apologetic) and it was NOT a little tingle. It hurt. A LOT! Just like last time, with Dr. Michael Bome.

I cried several times and afterwards. I called Keith on the cell phone and asked him to come over, but he didn't make it until it was over (or else they wouldn't let him in.)

On the way home, I was asking myself if there was something wrong with me. Am I much more sensitive to pain than other people? Am I a total wimp? This because they had told me it wouldn't hurt. I was feeling really bad about myself, and then I remembered Tom telling me about it. He described it like the inquisition, like medieval torture chambers. I was happy to remember that. I felt a little better about myself. And a lot worse about my doctors, who lied to me, telling me it wouldn't hurt. They have a sign up in their office about trust. How can you trust someone who lies to you? I think what they did was abusive. It would have been much less so if they were honest about it. Apparently, to qualify as "gaslighting," there has to be malicious intent. I'm not positive about the motivation of the staff at Policherla's lying to me, but my guess is so that I wouldn't leave. (maybe they never had the test themselves and don't know). I'm not sure if that qualifies as malicious or not, but it was still lying.

The artwork I made to represent the experience is not nearly as ugly, confusing and horrible as I felt during and after the experience. I couldn't make it ugly enough. And I don't really have time to be doing artwork or blogging. (Click the image to view it larger).

The problem is, I have neuropathy, or nerve damage, especially in my legs and feet, like a diabetic. Three different people asked me yesterday if I had diabetes. But I've been tested for it several times and the results were negative. But I do have a problem with sugar. Dr. Beeai suggested it might be a form of hypoglycemia. Whatever it is, I wish they'd figure it out before I end up losing my feet and legs like a diabetic. I hope it isn't some horrible debilitating or worse yet, fatal disease.

I have new tests set up in this never-ending cycle if tests and more tests, none of which have been helpful so far. But they have been expensive. I need to make phone calls and set things up. And I need to prepare for my trip and the Memorial service etc. I've "wasted" (spent) too much time on this already!

I will be away through the 15th probably, and off-line most of the time I am gone. Probably no blogging between now and then, or very little.