One of hundreds of Edward Gorey cats
The Admiral was very fond of Gorey: we have all 3 books; when Yvette tried out for some mid-western college, she wrote about Gorey for an essay she was asked to do on art and she was accepted with an $18,000 scholarship! Gorey-like she didn’t go.
Clarycat has been sticking close to me these last few days; where I am, she is.
Dear friends and readers,
From about the age of 17 or so I understood that there was such a thing as an unconscious area of the mind outside our control — quite apart from beyond whatever the mind does when it is sleeping.
I learned then as I am experiencing again now that some things are not under our conscious control: I do not will myself not to sleep. I want to sleep. But I have returned to sleep patterns I have not had since age 17 to 19. I find I sleep 2 hours or so, and then wake up no matter what I do. I am up for 4-5 hours: I can read and write. Then if lucky sleep again for 2 hours. I do not will this. I really hate headaches from not sleeping. You see I don’t always get that second 2 hours.
I certainly do not will my body not to react to the sleep medication I was using before the phone call from the DMV telling me I am not permitted to drive a car. Before the phone call the medication helped. I slept. Now I can’t. This has gone deeply into my psyche somewhere, disquieted me deeply. I can’t reach it so can’t talk about what it is. I am frightened very frightened.
I have asked the doctor to give me more of the powerful sleep medication I have that did work the other night, but again I am up against power. If he chooses not to write a prescription, I can’t have it. Is it amusing to think his excuse will be it’s addictive?
Power. How did people in the US end up ceding so much important power away?
Given the state of public transportation in Virginia (not uncommon across the US), some things I cannot reach — the Uber cab is really scarily expensive. (This is deliberately engineered; in one of the southern and one of the western states the legislation killed a bill to build some railway which the federal gov’t was prepared to help pay for in a big way.) $70 for one ride. So no dentist, no hairdresser, no Whole Foods, no stationary bike. Next week I can probably get to get to AU by bus train bus on the way there and back — I did it on rare occasions during the time I was teaching there from 1987 to 1992/93. The generous organizer (I am doing it for free) changed the time of the class in order to situate it in a place genuinely gettable to by public transportation and not crazily expensive if I use a cab (it was put in a church in Maryland I would have had a hard time finding even), now if the students only stay I’ll have it. The following week I’ll go back to paying the price for a cab there once a week maybe but going and coming back by bus, train, bus the rest of the time.
Until the lawyer calls me to tell me what’s happening (and one has to wait for somethings to happen) I will not know if I have any recourse ever. Each day I get a little older and closer to death. I am not so foolish to say closer to Jim as after all per his orders I had his poor corpse burnt up. He doesn’t exist any more. I am now in the world of this US of A without him and the result is before me.
So, besides what it’s like in a country where there is no decent public transportation and a central organization can forbid someone to drive without explanation, what’s it like in a country where each stroke of what’s done medically is calculated on a profit basis:
A friend sent me an article about how the French treat cancer patients. It will be no surprise to learn they act with real consideration. In comparison if Jim needed a blood count, he had to get to the doctor’s office, and then he had to wait sitting in pain usually in a not-so-comfortable chair (the wheelchair provided was awful); whatever his pain he had to wait sometimes hours for tests they demanded he take and we had to pay out of pocket for. The faces of all the attendants were blank, pretending that this is was fine behavior. He did leave sometimes without the supposedly necessary test — but by then he had had to come, sit in a car, and then had to sit (it was very painful for him all bumps) to get back. I wonder what would have happened if I had had my license taken away then. I am persuaded he would have said, well, I’ll just die quicker, it’ll cost you less,
I admit I understood his feelings and his choices. I am feeling a version of this as I anticipate what I should have to endure with no reassurance or sense it will come to an end. If I manage it. Each day I do get a little older and a little closer to death.
N was a Notice that caused him Dismay (another Gorey alphabet) Note: Gorey does not tell you which organization sent this … why? … what was the dismay …
The simple truth is I am intensely sad now. Maybe the DMV found out about my lifelong depression so even though for 34 years it did not interfere with driving, they have decided to stop me driving. They will kill me if they keep this up.
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