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This would have been a good day for me to stay off of FB. I'm overtired and peevish and picked enough dumb fights on the weekend, I don't need to continue that into the week.
Ironically, I thought this is how I would be yesterday but I wasn't. Well, most of the time. I was alert and fairly good-natured at work, despite my annoyance at forgetting my lunch. I went to BK expecting terrible pop music and instead got the Best of OMD (I arrived mid "Tesla Girls" and left after "Talking Loud and Clear"). And then I had terrific luck with the trains.
Things started to go south when I had to change at Jackson. The station was stuffy, I was sweating through my shirt within minutes, and just about the worst busker was playing "Free Falling". Literally the only words he knew were "'Cause I'm free, free falling" so he repeated them over and over. (To say he "sang" them would be a huge stretch.) When I got on the train, the asshole beside me was listening to grunge metal full blast without headphones and the station was under construction, forcing me to make a lengthy detour. I initially went to the wrong building and when I found the shiny new one that housed the clinic, I was appalled at how cramped the waiting room was. I kind of snapped at the nurse for getting my name wrong.
Then I got shown to a room and everything went better. The resident was actually on the ball and only needed to be gently reminded that I'd already answered a couple of his questions on paper. He took a thorough history and kept excellent notes. When he asked if he'd missed anything, I said, "Are you sure you don't want to take a sexual history?" and I helped walk him through that. (Adorably, we both blanked on the clinical name for the penetrative role in anal sex.)
It took a moment for Northstem to recognise me, but one he did things became very congenial. If I feared it would be awkward to get a nonsexual finger in my butt from someone I'm on given-name terms with, I was thankfully proved wrong. We had to give the resident a potted summary of how we knew each other and Northstem apologised for "dredging all that up". "It's fine," I told him, "being in a hospital dredged it all up anyway." We came up with a reasonable treatment plan and I left reassured.
Nuphy and I rendezvoused at Jade Court where I was initially the only customer. We did a lot of backing-and-forthing over the menu before going totally comfort foody with lettuce wraps, roast duck, and honey-walnut shrimp. It's probably the best Cantonese food I've ever had in Chicago; the siu mai in particular were just outrageously better than almost any others I've ever had.
We had time to really catch up on things. He let me talk a lot, which was good, because I was still processing a lot. I confessed how worried I am about when it's my turn to spend weeks in the hospital recovering from something awful; he confessed to me that he probably couldn't got through that again (and denied ever wanting to die to avoid it in the first place, even though I distinctly remember him telling me that his love for his daughter is all that kept him from letting go of it all).
When I got home (after another fairly uneventful trip on the Howard train), I met up with the condomate whose cat I'll be feeding a couple times and we debriefed on the recent condo board drama. I was relieved to hear that, even though she's cordial with the outgoing prez, she has much the same problems with her not listening and being too impatient. Hopefully I won't ever go back to feeling as isolated as I did when it seemed everyone was okay with her bullshit but me.
Ironically, I thought this is how I would be yesterday but I wasn't. Well, most of the time. I was alert and fairly good-natured at work, despite my annoyance at forgetting my lunch. I went to BK expecting terrible pop music and instead got the Best of OMD (I arrived mid "Tesla Girls" and left after "Talking Loud and Clear"). And then I had terrific luck with the trains.
Things started to go south when I had to change at Jackson. The station was stuffy, I was sweating through my shirt within minutes, and just about the worst busker was playing "Free Falling". Literally the only words he knew were "'Cause I'm free, free falling" so he repeated them over and over. (To say he "sang" them would be a huge stretch.) When I got on the train, the asshole beside me was listening to grunge metal full blast without headphones and the station was under construction, forcing me to make a lengthy detour. I initially went to the wrong building and when I found the shiny new one that housed the clinic, I was appalled at how cramped the waiting room was. I kind of snapped at the nurse for getting my name wrong.
Then I got shown to a room and everything went better. The resident was actually on the ball and only needed to be gently reminded that I'd already answered a couple of his questions on paper. He took a thorough history and kept excellent notes. When he asked if he'd missed anything, I said, "Are you sure you don't want to take a sexual history?" and I helped walk him through that. (Adorably, we both blanked on the clinical name for the penetrative role in anal sex.)
It took a moment for Northstem to recognise me, but one he did things became very congenial. If I feared it would be awkward to get a nonsexual finger in my butt from someone I'm on given-name terms with, I was thankfully proved wrong. We had to give the resident a potted summary of how we knew each other and Northstem apologised for "dredging all that up". "It's fine," I told him, "being in a hospital dredged it all up anyway." We came up with a reasonable treatment plan and I left reassured.
Nuphy and I rendezvoused at Jade Court where I was initially the only customer. We did a lot of backing-and-forthing over the menu before going totally comfort foody with lettuce wraps, roast duck, and honey-walnut shrimp. It's probably the best Cantonese food I've ever had in Chicago; the siu mai in particular were just outrageously better than almost any others I've ever had.
We had time to really catch up on things. He let me talk a lot, which was good, because I was still processing a lot. I confessed how worried I am about when it's my turn to spend weeks in the hospital recovering from something awful; he confessed to me that he probably couldn't got through that again (and denied ever wanting to die to avoid it in the first place, even though I distinctly remember him telling me that his love for his daughter is all that kept him from letting go of it all).
When I got home (after another fairly uneventful trip on the Howard train), I met up with the condomate whose cat I'll be feeding a couple times and we debriefed on the recent condo board drama. I was relieved to hear that, even though she's cordial with the outgoing prez, she has much the same problems with her not listening and being too impatient. Hopefully I won't ever go back to feeling as isolated as I did when it seemed everyone was okay with her bullshit but me.
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