If there is one thing human beings are not very good at, it is not-doing, just being. Especially in our modern, crazy rat-race, dog-eat-dog kind of world; we are simply not that good at waiting things out and seeing what will happen. Combine that with our craving for instant gratification, and it’s not hard to see why we find it nearly impossible to sit in quietness and wait.
That is hard enough to do for 30 minutes or so, quieting the mind and trying to meditate on life’s problems, but if you have to continually do it for weeks and months on end, not knowing what is going to happen, it is a recipe for torture to any modern human being. We are simply not wired that way! We like to feel that we are doing something, making a change, or creating our own destiny or whatever, as long as we are doing something.
Now, I have never been divorced before, so I am not sure what the rules are (I didn’t think that pretty cool statement up myself, but I am sure the friend I stole it from will see the flattery in my piracy!) but I do know that just like everyone else in this crazy world I am not very good at doing nothing. So while we wait for things to be sorted out, I am going mad trying to find things to do; preparing somehow for that which we can never be prepared for.
In my attempt to take some semblance of control, I have decided to take care of me. Mentally, physically and so forth..but some of that entails seeing doctors. I don’t like people in the medical profession. I have had inordinate amounts of bad luck with them. The crazy in me seems to draw out the crazy in them!
I promise you. I am the only person I know that has had to fire my psychiatrist because she went nuts! I couldn’t believe it either! I rang her up, asking if she could write my script out the week before I came to see her for our 6-monthly checkup as my medication wasn’t going to last. She lost the plot! She shouted down the phone at me for nearly 20 minutes at how it wasn’t her responsibility to check whether my scripts would last until our next seeing each other and how she was going to make me pay for having to write it out and she didn’t think that was unfair because I would pay a GP if I had to go and ask them for a script. I stayed remarkably calm – for once in my life (pat self on the back!) – and told her that if she felt that all I needed as a pill-pusher, I would be more than happy to pay my GP less than half of what she would be charging, so she could go ahead and cancel my appointment for the next week. I was planning on taking it to the medical board, but then received a pathetic text message from her saying how very sorry she was that she had let me down and I couldn’t get the treatment I needed from her. It was sort of comforting to know that doctors get crazy too…It did leave me with a problem of needing a script…but my GP obliged and phoned up the crazy lady and got the details to get me my medication.
Fast-forward six months later…. Like I have mentioned – I am skittish of doctors at the best of times and it is very hard for me to find one that I trust enough to see more than once! But hey, with having small children, I have managed to get to know the three ladies at the local GP quite well and they have served me and my kids well over the years. So I ring up for an appointment and as it is nothing serious, I say any one of the three would do.
I walk in however, and I don’t know this one. My shackles are up. (I don’t know when this particular woman doctor started working there, but as I rarely go to the doctor, it would have been very easy for them to replace someone in the last year without me noticing.) She looks like she is about to fall over. I suspect she is on cancer treatment as I can see the port or cannula or whatever sticking out from her shirt, so I am still willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. We get onto talking about my medication and she seems OK. I decide that while I am there, and seeing as how I detest doctors and might not see another one for another year or two, perhaps I should be proactive about one of the things that at this stage in my life is about the only thing I can take control of. Birth control.
“So why weren’t you sterilised after your last child?” she asks me. My mouth drops open. But no words come out. I rock back on my chair and wonder if I heard her correctly. I am 38 years old…it has never been mentioned to me as an option…she is really pushing the issue and when I finally say that I am not really at a place in my life right now where I am able to make such weighty decisions, she says: “OK, well then just get the injection.” I am hesitant, because during my last pregnancy I developed severe pre-eclampsia with some pretty special complications the universe cooked up just for me. So I am not sure the hormones are really the place I want to go. I try and explain all this to her and then she proceeds to tell me that pre-eclampsia comes from the man and even if I decide to have another baby, as long as it is with another man, I don’t have any greater risk of developing it again. Now my head is spinning. I am an anxiety-sufferer lady, I read up about things and I swear I have never, ever come across that fact before! I manage to get it out and her retort, while sagely putting her hands together and looking me straight in the eye across the table is: “Well, not many people know that because they are not doctors.”
I am ready to run out of the door. Then the final blow: ” I still think the injection is your best option. The only negative effect it has is that it might make your depression worse.” My mouth opens and closes like a goldfish that has jumped out of its bowl and is now living just long enough to regret every last life decision. My head is spinning and I wonder into which portal of universal madness I have been swept. Did I not come in here to get medication for being depressed? I was sure I had, but at the same time the immensity of this women’s utterly preposterous statements are making me doubt even my own craziness!
So that’s it. No more pro-activity from me! I have learnt my lesson, Universe…I will sit quietly and ride out the wait. I will just be here, in this moment before the next inhale, and wait quietly to see what you send me.