Raw reasons why I’m pissed off

1. Neighbor was playing drums at 12:30AM.

2. Duke Transplant is concerned that I have articulated a mistrust of their organization. Perhaps that has something to do with the various episodes of incompetency I experienced back in January after my nephrectomy. Without addressing any that prior incompetence, they want me to pledge not to yell at an intern to get the hell out of my room. And they want me to be remorseful about having done that back in January. And they need me to meet for a second time with a medical psychologist so that my “coping” skills can be assessed. It’s funny that I’ve been on the Duke Transplant list for 3 years, and no one has been especially interested in how I cope with things until now. And they’re not the least bit interested in how I cope with dialysis that is administered by incompetents. Or how I cope with a demanding full-time job in addition to dialysis and the physical drain that accompanies dialysis. Or how I cope with the very idea of living a life that is stagnant. They just want to make sure that I don’t get fed up with a snotty, soulless intern to the point of verbally eviscerating him. I signed a document saying I won’t. But I certainly couldn’t pledge not to get royally pissed off. I’ll just need to vent in a less confrontational method, like shooting off an email to Dr. Victor Dzau, Chancellor of the Duke University Health System. I did that once before, and it actually resulted in a positive response.

Even the expression of these frustrations puts me at risk for being deactivated from the list. I cannot simply say what they want me to say, play their game. Frankly, they have made so many mistakes that they should be trying to win my favor. But they’re not.

3. I learned Java briefly 15 years ago. I wish I knew it in 2011. I haven’t really learned anything in years. I wish I were a coder. I detest myself for failing to, time and time again, acquire any new useful skills.

4. I want to fix my front yard. It is an unkempt jungle. But I don’t know what to do. And I suspect that 15-20 minutes of yard work will exhaust me.

5. I want to fix my back yard. Another mess.

6. I want to fix up the inside of the house. A hopeless mess for four years and counting.

7. I want to exercise some muscles and joints in my spoiled shell of a body, which has had no useful activity in over three years.

8. I can’t go anywhere without a sense of self-loathing cropping up. Go to Whole Foods–everyone’s better than me, in so many ways. Go to Fast Food–I can’t afford to put that crap into my body. Go to Target–no one sees to go there solo; that’s a couples trip. Etc. There’s nowhere that’s safe. And home makes me feel the worst. I don’t fit in anywhere. This is the problem of a 15-year-old. A 35-year-old has either gotten past this or has resigned himself to such a life.


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