(CONCEPT) Design a simple web page on how to effectively use your Public Healthcare – without first dying.
(TRANSITIONS) You’re at the Finish Line, you’re almost there, and this is where you ended up? FUCK THAT.
However, we can use our wits to outwit them, it seems, as demonstrated in a recent and accidental experiment.
But I am not going to go into that.
So let’s all just jump in at once:
….. If, for example, you are in a car accident, someone rear-ends you, and the ER doctors advise you to see a Neurologist, to do an MRI, you are in NO shape to handle administrative Brain tasks like that, so you ask …
But who are The Brain Doctors? Who are those doctors? The Brain Doctors.
So instead of doing what you know you cannot do – make personal visits and have to deal with disgruntled State workers who were once where you are now, or lots of phone, which go
Why not go straight to the top?
Straight to the Governor of the State, the State Representatives.
Have a TANTRUM.
They’ll never forget you.
They probably have a file on you, too.
Tell THEM what’s bothering you.
That’s your name.
And tell them – you mean business.
It’s been that way all day, today.
Finally, finally, finally –
(But dare I say it?
Very very risky.
I’m not a Las Vegas Person.
This interests me immensely. )
“Things are finally looking up.”
Good day yesterday.
Had my gourmet peanut butter and black currant jelly on country white bread sandwich.
Listened to lots of music.
And wrote and wrote and wrote.
Went to bed. Slept well. Up during the night cause I had an earlier nap. Relaxed. And productive. Woke up rested.
Took another nap.
Worked and worked.
Went out to get cigarettes and gas.
Took Illinois Elgin – O’Hare something, etc., intending to go to Starbucks and spend the afternoon on my computer. But there was no sign on what was formerly 355 for the Woodefield Mall Exit, a major shopping attraction, anymore.
I didn’t want to go to O’Hare, and besides, I doubted it was done anyway. They started building it when I was still living in the area. It would be years before it reached O’Hare, decades, perhaps.
Not that I was thinking about the shit above when I was driving – nope. Not at all. Mostly I was trying to figure out where the fuck I was. I landed several towns away and in a different direction. So I decided to make a left at the intersection. The street was broad and had several lanes in both direction and was empty.
I pulled into the outer left-turn lane. There were 2 outer left-turn lanes, land the light was red, so I relaxed a bit, and thought about getting my google navigation out, to help me find my way back to Woodfield.
The other lanes, to my right, had green lights. But traffic was extremely light. So I sat in my lane and waited for the red arrow to turn into a green arrow, while the other lanes – on both sides of the road – were green.
My focus was ahead.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!
Fuck! I was hit.
I WAS OKAY.
FOR A WHILE.
The seat belt locked me tight against the seat. That was the most painful.
Aside from splitting my upper lip (my first ever!) I felt physically okay. But my brain was no longer intact. Who knows what chemicals it was awash in now?
My Brain was in Shock.
The absurdity of what I have so lovingly titled, THE ODYSSEY OF INVISIBILITY, of events – totally, outside of my control – would rival Voltaire’s Tale.
Eventually, you start to wonder why Today keeps looking the same?
And the day keeps changing and looking the same.
Today and today.
I would rather not
Apparently, this was never filed. I thought I had filed it, but while searching earlier, I realized I had no confirmation of receipt from the DOJ. Excuse the formatting. The Complaint Form has a specific allowance for characters (which may be why they never received it, since I used paragraphs, which exceeded the limit.) So you have to scrunch everything together. Sure would be nice, if they let you know that, you know, had, oh, whatever.
GREATER BALTIMORE MEDICAL CENTER (GBMC)
“I was under the impression that I had filed the following complaint with the DOJ on July 23, 2015. However, I cannot find receipt of acknowledgment from your office. This is what I wrote on July 23, 2015, addressed to the ACLU, now edited to provide further details. This past week, I experienced a nightmare when I went in GBMC ER for an allergic reaction. I had been to the ER on Saturday night, suffering from heat exhaustion. The previous night, Friday night, Paramedics pulled me from my car and took me the Hopkins ER. On Saturday night, the symptoms of heat exhaustion were still present and my psychologist recommended I go to an ER other than Hopkins and I did. There, once the Attending Physician discovered I had a psychiatric diagnosis, left the room. A Fellow doing his Residence in Psychiatry, then came (I never saw the MD again) to discuss my psychiatric diagnosis, which is fine. That seemed to go well – at least that was my impression. The next night, however, was when the nightmare emerged and the sadistic behavior of the staff there was clearly visible. I had a systemic allergic reaction after I had eaten something and my hand became swollen. The same physician who had attended me the previous night also saw me that Sunday night. But before I saw him, a nurse attended me, and gave me 50 or 75 mgs of Benadryl to reduce the swelling on my hand. After that, a Physician’s Assistant saw me, and the first thing she said to me: “I can see that your Bipolar symptoms are exacerbated.” I looked at her and said: “What are you talking about? I’m here because of a severe allergic reaction.” My body was producing hives as we spoke. “Where did you get that information, about the exacerbation of my Bipolar symptoms? “It’s in your chart,” she said. “Really? And who put it in my chart?” The psychiatric resident,” she said. When the doctor arrived, I immediately addressed staff treatment of those with psychiatric diagnoses. He became hostile. And refused to examine my hand, and from a distance, called it a “superficial bruise.” Then, I said, there is no reason for me to be here. And I left, walked out. He didn’t stop me. A friend who was with me that night (an Epidemiologist) returned to the ER and discussed the reason why I was there. The Attending Physician then said, I could come back and be examined by another physician. However that is not what happened. I was tricked and escorted without my knowledge and locked in a ward with 2 security guards present and additional nursing staff. “What is going on?’ I said. They said they wanted to evaluate me. That is NOT why I returned to the ER. Furthermore, they had no right whatsoever to do this, as it was not the psychiatric diagnosis that was problem, but the allergic reaction that brought me to the ER. They had incarcerated me against my will, but in a most sinister fashion, through trickery and malice, because I had earlier challenged their treatment of psychiatric patients. If my friend had not been there, they had the power to hold me, a clear violation of my civil rights, and a dangerous breach of ethics. I demanded I be released, and they were forced to comply.
This type of behavior needs to stop.”
Americans with Disabilities Act Discrimination Complaint Form
Thank you for your complaint. Please retain and refer to the following reference number for any correspondence concerning this complaint:
It’s probably good that I’m pretty looney when it comes to navigating round this planet by now –
Pretty sure of that.
If I knew which side was up in this piece, I would tell you. But I don’t have a clue which side is up.
Thus, I decided to provide a choice – instead of a shock in the arm – just in case –
Playing it on the safe side.
Had fun playing with them!