Teddy et al

"Tempus fugit"

I'm in the tail end of a passing "post tropical storm" and I'm not well, neither is Hapi.

The good news is no power outage so the sump pump did its job and my basement is not flooded. Hapi's guts were upset, apparently, and rather than ask to go outdoors to relieve herself she decided to use my bedroom carpet. It took a couple of hours for me to discover this—she's not a great communicator and I was pretty much anchored to my armchair in the living room—and it was not a welcome discovery. I sent her outside into the storm, storming after her, "You're a BAD DOG!" She spent several hours holed up in her doghouse before I let her back in again.

I don't know what is wrong with me, and that's depressing. When I left BC over a dozen years ago my doctor at the time gave me photocopies of all my medical records with him because he feared that I would not easily find a new doctor to transfer those records to. He was right. Anyway, I have occasionally glanced through those records but not in any great depth until yesterday. Talk about depressing. Not only did the pile of photocopies include his records, but also a previous GP's records which he had obtained on my behalf, so this pile dates back to the mid-'90s. 

I never really liked the previous doctor but didn't feel I could switch to someone else at the time, and those records justify my dislike. She was rather judgmental of me, her notes made it clear that she did not think too highly of my intelligence or emotional stability. The doctor who gave me these records made his own notes in almost illegible handwriting, so I can't really say what his opinion was, but I think it was considerably less judgmental.

Anyway, reading that stuff when you're already mildly depressed about being sick was probably not the best idea. I think it tipped me over into a sense of "what is the effing point of anything." I am not particularly fond of my current doctor, so I think I should be very circumspect about what I say to her, I can now imagine very well what her notes about me say. You think that being honest with your doctor is a good idea, but my experience doesn't support that.

Last night my brother called me just as I was heading off to bed, we had a brief chat about a bunch of things including a long multi-day motorcycle ride he did with some buddies. One of those buddies used to be a friend of mine who was unaware that I was his sister, I gather they had a conversation about that and quite frankly, after reading those medical records, I do not want to know what was said about me. I'm not sure if anyone has a good or at least not-bad opinion of me right now.

This coming weekend I am supposed to visit B at the nursing home, but not being well I think I am going to have to cancel out. B is not going to be happy about that, I already missed the last visit because her son didn't call me to tell me about it.

So right now my life is all about the armchair and my bed, and I am putting off taking Hapi for a walk. The rain has stopped but it's still pretty cold and windy out there. The radar shows a final wave of rain on its way later this evening, the last of Teddy.