What happens when I feel terrible because my spine is actively trying to destroy me, but my mind is still capable of thinking about things? Well, I can’t do anything much, but I can do some of the menial background tasks that can help me tell “The Story” easier. For my livestreaming background image, I included the book cover of “Novel 01” and did other things to better advertise “Novel 02” when I’m able to write it.
Spoilers?: Minor [planning through pain]
It’s nearly midnight and I haven’t written this essay yet.
My spine was OK for most of the morning but when I called my spine doctor back, that was a half-hour spent talking to two assists – first to the spine doctor’s assistant, then the neurologist’s assistant in the same office – that consisted of them acting as aloof as possible toward my patient care. They have the attitude that because my scans are normal, my spine is normal, and so I spent that half-hour arguing for my right to exist with good health. I’ll reveal this information about them. They had a Christmas tree in their waiting room throughout the holidays and I’ve come to realize that they only did that for show. Rather than the charity that doctors or human beings would share toward others, they have attempted to point the finger elsewhere wherever possible. They point to the sports medicine and pain management doctor, who says my problem is a spine problem.
I wrote a message to my primary care physician about all of this.
He said that if they continue to act in this way that he would like my case transferred to his office for his referral to other spine surgeons or neurologists. So my day was wrecked having to deal with that. I was in a bad headspace and wasn’t able to be productive at all. Sitting on that phone call put too much pressure on my spine. I can sit for more than thirty minutes without issue, but when I have to parse through the difficult precision of advocating for my health, well, everything goes to shit. My spine hurt so much that it sucked all the life out of me.
It was awful and when it’s awful, what can you do?
Well, I couldn’t livestream, or focus on much of anything.
Instead, I worked on what I could, which was first tackling my health and my bad attitude as a result of my spine actively trying to destroy me. That took a few hours and included me sheltering myself away even at the behest of well-intending people. Instead, I just fiddled around with menial tasks that helped me feel better. One of them was updating the URLs for my Discords. I don’t know how long it took before I could get the cooler URL for my URL related to “The Story” – taYhUmmWar – but I’m happy enough with it for the number of attempts it took before I could randomly generate that URL.
It took too long for me to generate a URL starting with Z for my casual “Zdiscord.”
These are not the sorts of activities that one could justify working on during a healthy day full of productivity and ambition, but when life is kicking your ass in every possible way, fixing up stupid things like this can be a big accomplishment. While I was generating that URL, I was thinking about how I wanted to physically create The Story’s Discord in the fourth-wall-breaking area, Zeal, in the Minecraft map that’s served as my visual database for planning out set-pieces and scenes. I had a large empty space that will soon be billed by two rooms – the first room is sort of like a meeting room for the general things that we might discuss in the Discord, and the second room is where the author-insert in-universe version of myself, along with editors, readers, or consultants, would help in the fiction-writing process.
These are fun plans that can help alleviate the pressure of a life oppressed by health.
It’s now midnight and it was only a few hours ago that I felt OK at all. It actually took me receiving a phone call from my old dentist to break me out of that funk. I had told them twice before not to call me to see if I was interested in filling an earlier appointment for their calendars. Both times, they told me that they respected that, and made a note on my file not to call me for earlier appointments. Today when they called me at 7pm to ask if I would fill an appointment for them on Friday – phrased as ‘are you interested in moving your appointment up?’ – I told them that I had tried to tell them a few times not to call me like that, but they did not respect my wishes, so I told them to cancel my appointment, and told them that I would not be going to them anymore. I chewed this caller out for this, and sure, that’s rude of me.
I could have been more polite, yes.
However, through that process of taking life into my own hands and saying that – like I did with the assistants that were quick to point fingers at others for fulfilling the responsibility of treating me as a human being – helped me out. If that was me channeling my anger into an innocent victim, it was because that person that called me had failed to check the notes on my file – or, their colleagues had set them up for failure – and my anger, heightened by my spine, was directed at them. Yeah, now that I’m thinking about it, I wasn’t “the good guy” in that situation. But in morality, who really is good or evil? This spine surgeon’s and neurologist’s office is the villain in my story. They are not empathetic toward my recovery.
If they were, I could’ve made in-game progress, but at least I wasn’t overly destructive…
|Sources: The Story’s Imaginarium.|
|Inspirations: Well, this was primarily a Sober Living rant essay under the framework of the Novel 02 essays, which is where I can dig into some of the worst sides of humanity, including my own. I was the villain to the dental assistant that innocently called, but their office disrespected me three times in a row, and lied to me about correcting their behavior. Why should I feel sorry about that other than the expressions I gave in this essay? Same for the assistants of the other offices that did their best to avoid responsibility for my care. So, yes, these are frustrating situations. But I did my best to take that negativity and turn it into positivity, even if that amounted to me redesigning my visual overlay and updating some links.|
|Related: Essays helping build “Novel 02.” This novel is formally called “A Story About Self-Confidence: Something About Anxiety,” and is a sequel to “Novel 01,” which is part of the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.” Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.|
|Written On: 2021 January 07 [11:24pm to “able to write it” at 11:27pm. 11:43pm to 12:09pm – at 08]|
|Last Edited: 2021 January 07 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|