The Off to College Moon
Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Great Sol. Blue Sky. Shades of green. Mark in Bangkok. Ruth and Gabe. Jen. Workout this morning. Reconstructionism tonight. Steve Bernstein. Prostate cancer. Sue. Kristie. Black Mountain. This oh so strange election year. Kamala. Tim. He who must be defeated. Celebrex. Pain relief. Medicine. Hippocrates.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Pain Relief
Kavanah: STRENGTH Gevura for a workout today, this August 14th, 2024 life
One brief shining: Rolling, rolling, rolling the thunder sound of green and yellow garbage bins under a brisk Mountain early morning, my driveway, the neighbor’s driveway, then another neighbor’s, a form of sympathetic magic involved, recycling as a solution to global warming, climate change, all of us doing our part. Sort of.
Yesterday. Seems so far away. May I, for a moment, speak a word against telephone call centers. An example might be United Health Care. After a good medical day Monday when I felt heard and seen and cared for I followed it up doing what the front desk requested. Changing the name of my PCP from Kristin to Sue Bradshaw. Simple enough, right?
First, the chipper A.I. confident in its ability to take care of whatever I needed. After having said advocate, advocate, advocate, this simple spell did result in a human voice. Ah. Yes, I can help you change the name of your primary care provider. Can you spell her name? B-R-A-D-S-H-A-W. Please hold while I work on changing the name of your primary care provider. Some ditzy tune that would have been a good warmup at a rollerskating rink oh those many years ago. For far too long.
Hello, sir. I was not able to replace nurse practitioner Bradshaw-did I detect a slight tone of how could I anyway?-as your primary care provider. Her credentials do not meet our contractual requirements. I will call Conifer Medical Center and see if I can solve this problem. I’ll put you on hold again.
Images of rollerskates, organ music, girls in short skirts twirling while boys in jeans struggled to stay upright. Boredom. A period where I got all my bills scheduled for payment. A turn at reading the New York Times, first article, second article. Playing Spelling Bee. We’re now 20 minutes or so into this pause while other wheels turned out of my aural range.
Then the climax. A dial tone. Yup, the call dropped off. As you know, if you call back, you don’t reach the person you talked to last time.
Found my spirit doused, my energy cooled for solving minor life bureaucratic annoyances. In spite of pleasantness as my kavanah for the day, I had unpleasant thoughts, not for the first time, about my health insurance.
Just a moment: There will be blood. But for now it’s Harris/Walz placards. A presidential candidate under 60 and a 60 year old vice presidential candidate. A youth movement. Not sure how long this momentum can last, but go, Kamala, go. We have a fighting chance to win now. May her name be ever known as blessed.