Daily Archives: May 27, 2015
This is odd. A few folks have said to me, “I wish I knew you when you lived in the States.” Some people I simply never met even though they might have lived nearby. But others were acquaintances who refused to befriend me while I was living in the Boston area. How am I supposed to respond to a statement like that? I still have the unanswered emails. I still have my phone records of the friendly calls I made to people that went unanswered and unreturned. I still recall those who refused to get together with me or even give me their phone number. I recall those who could have gone out to coffee with me, but when I casually asked, they refused. This was uncanny, but true, and shocks me still.
So to now call me a friend is ludicrous. I want to say, “Hey, where the fuck were you? Why did you not honor me? Why did you treat me like worthless shit back in Boston? Why did you uphold insanely tight boundaries, thinking I was going to do something terrible if you ever reached out? What did you have against me?” Frankly, some folks acted abominably. What happened to me should not have happened to any human.
I want to say, “It’s too late now, buddy.” But I don’t. It’s not too late for me but it’s far too late for a friendship based on deceit.
So I’m doing okay now. Why do people who knew me in Boston USA now want to be with me or to converse with me when before, they were downright hostile?
It’s not like that here at all. I like some people and others I’m not so comfortable with. But I am never seen as nuts. I’m never turned away the way I was in the states. I have a decent life here. Bye bye loneliness. I don’t have much reason to cry anymore, either.
My friend tells me the best attitude to adopt is, “Fuck it.” So go to hell, you two-faced liars. No one needs snobbery.
I think about Rachel a lot. I miss her. I beat myself up for choosing not to call her. Then, right about when I was going to do so, I found out about her death. I have inquired around. The silence is sinking in. If people are remaining so mum on cause of death, absolutely not speaking of it nor answering my emails, I can only conclude something fishy happened that no one wants leaked out. She certainly had enough pills to do herself in, but did she? I don’t mean to dishonor her name since personally, I see her as a victim, and a brave one at that, a person whose aim was to keep others from making the same mistakes she had made in the past. I am not at all saying she gave up. She certainly tried very hard to turn things around.
As for the cancer she had or didn’t have, I’m not one to say. I didn’t live in her body. She told me the following: “I had surgery. I could have been saved. Instead, they botched it up and now my cancer is spreading.” This was during a rather heated moment, heated on her end, that was.
The word “malpractice” didn’t come into my head at that point. I hadn’t thought about it and didn’t realize how often such errors occur. Now, I know that victims of malpractice have it bad enough. They get damaged. What else happens is that if they ever speak out, they are forced into silence. One thing that inevitably occurs is that they are denied medical care. They are made to look like fools in their communities. Their reputations are permanently smeared. There’s no recourse and the doctors at fault get off scot free. Many cannot get lawyers, and of those that do, there isn’t any satisfaction since a lawsuit won’t award much, if any, money to the victim. All goes to attorney fees. And still, the ones at fault rarely apologize. To accept the pittance of money victims get, many victims have to sign a gag order, making it a crime to ever mention what happened. I kinda think I’d rather speak out and continue to ruin the doctor’s reputation via writing the truth of what happened. The truth speaks for itself and stands. Lies fade away.
But back then, I had no clue what to say to Rachel. I wish I’d been more affirming, but I don’t know much about cancer. So what could have happened was that despite all claims otherwise, her cancer was there and growing all along. Clearly she received poor quality medical care. Was this due to the medical harm that had been done to her. Were they trying to keep her quiet or trying to make her look incompetent? Did they bully her? Was she threatened? I guess I won’t ever know.
Be a rebel.
Join a protest.
Be the person that wasn’t expected of you.
Break a rule or norm every day.
Love those that have been rejected by others.
Befriend an inmate.
Befriend someone with a known psych label or other harmful label.
There are no bad people.
Speak out against discrimination.
If you see abuse, say something.
Uphold the idea of respecting others.
Challenge policies that reflect disrespect.
March in a parade, (such as Pride) or any parade that reflects what you believe in.
Escape tyranny and help others do so, too. Walk out of abusive relationships.
Express how you feel and respect that we humans self-express in a variety of ways. Honor your own feelings and the feelings of others.
Make your own decisions.
Don’t allow anyone to put limits on your behavior unless such limits reflect the need to uphold human rights for all people.
Don’t step on others. Try to put yourself in the shoes of another. Don’t be afraid to kick butt.
Love, even if you risk loss.
Think outside the box.
Believe in possibility.
Listen to your body. No one else owns it, and if someone does, take your body back.