May 2020 archive

10
May
2020

I think I’m pointing out the really obvious here.

categories: personal; word count: 476 words

I love the fact that I’ve gone through three neurologists in… how long now? And, of course, I can’t help any of this. One of them didn’t come back from maternity leave as she had originally planned to, and the other one has gone through three different hospital affiliations in a really short period of time, the third of which putting him so far away from me that it was absolutely not worth keeping him as my neurologist (since that would have been an hour and a half commute one way, only being worth it if there was no neurologist at all in this area that took my insurance). This will probably mean that my plan of care will change yet again, because the previous plan of care involved doing an ambulatory EEG at home, and it’s going to make it a lot more difficult to return everything that I need to return if I have to commute twenty minutes to do it — that’s a lot better than an hour and a half one way, but still. Scheduling. Commuting. All of that. Seriously now…

I also continue find it nearly infuriating that Facebook protects, in no particular order, able-bodied, Christian, white-passing men on their platform, and any dissidents against any of those are easily silenced in the form of comment and post blocks for increasing lengths of time. They also seem to like to silence anti-vaxers by making the reporting system incredibly easy to game and will not actually do anything about it to improve the reporting system. The fact that they let a convicted murderer (Jake Eakin) use their site is also concerning, especially because he is known for posting Facebook Lives of him “ministering” in front of facilities like Planned Parenthood buildings, and in 2018 one of them — so I’m assuming that this means all of them? — issued him a trespass order that he continues to violate with stunts like this, video taping staff at one of the facilities, which meant that police had to get involved. Now they seem to be litigating against him, and he continues to “minister” (read that as: scream in front of) them, while they are actively litigating against him. He also posts pictures that are supposed to be graphic and violent of “body parts after abortion” that a lot of people can report that Facebook refuses to take down, but he and his followers can massively report dissidents’ comments on his page and get them silenced no problem. So it’s clear who Facebook protects: someone who will gleefully toe the line, or flat-out break the law, “for the pre-born”, but not people who, you know, don’t actually break the fucking law. Okay. Cool. Make it extremely obvious here.

Also: I think the original massive appeal of Animal Crossing is wearing out, at least for me, just a little bit.

09
May
2020

They always protect the religious white man.

categories: personal; word count: 734 words

I got comment and post blocked on Facebook for a full thirty days because someone that I was having a discussion with about religion did not like the fact that I refuse to consent to Bub’s infantile (or childhood) baptism and am not comfortable, or willing, to allow any children of mine to undergo religious indoctrination. It seems like Facebook protects Christian, white-passing men more than they protect any other people, because as soon as those people make a report against you for anything it stands, and no matter how many rules they break, you can never successfully report them for anything because no matter how many times you report them and appeal it Facebook won’t punish them at all. And attempting to hold Facebook accountable for any of this is nearly, if not actually, impossible. I don’t think the platform will ever change.

That discussion did remind me of the fact that when Bub’s paternal family actually coerced me into attending Masses with them against my will, for all but the first Mass and when I was not taking care of our child, I actually brought my PSP with me to Mass and played video games for nearly the full hour because I literally physically did not want to be there and was being drug there against my will. I would hide it in the arm of my sweater (“your church is cold”, and I mean, although it was, I also did not want to be there). I had to have attended something in the ballpark of twenty Masses with them and, to this day, can not tell you what goes on at Mass or what they do when aside from the fact that sometimes they stand, other times they kneel, and I refused to do any of these things. (Although I will take the time to mention that the first time I attended Mass with them I had to sit in the main area of the church with Bub’s father’s family and he had to tell his mother that I was refusing to stand when… they did various things. I’m glad that they chose not to make a scene out of it because, let me tell you, I would have risen to the occasion with my Scottish DNA…)

I can, however, tell you the games that I played while I was intentionally ignoring everything that went on around me, and when I saved my progress and turned off the PSP… when they began to walk up to receive the Eucharist. Bub’s paternal grandmother once forced me to go up there to get a blessing and I remember literally running from the priest afterward. Seriously, I really ran from the man. The joke must have been on him blessing someone who didn’t believe in God… I wonder if the irony was ever lost on him at any point.

There also came a point in time when I was breastfeeding my son outside of the cry room and main area where they have Masses (what do you call this?), and Bub’s father insisted on following me. He could have gone back into the main area of the church where they… do this stuff, but against my will, regularly being informed that I did not want to attend Masses, the church functions, and the church get-togethers that I was being coerced into attending, he attempts to involve me in the “peace be with you” part of whatever it is that they do. I actually yell at him to leave me alone, and I yell so loud that were the Mass not already loud the entire church would have heard him yell at me. One parishioner that happens to be outside hears me and asks me if I’m alright. I literally tell him that he won’t leave me alone, but nothing gets done about it, and it does not take until the end of our relationship (although I don’t think he or his family will ever learn, or see, what they’ve done wrong here) for him to even remotely start to see that I’m saying that I do not want to attend or be part of any of this for a reason, I do not want to convert, leave me alone, just leave me out of it.

Of course, Bub doesn’t jump as any of this happens. Maybe he was used to his paternal family screaming.

08
May
2020

If it’s not one thing here, it is another.

categories: personal; word count: 247 words

Apparently the new hospital that my neurologist switched to… is no longer the hospital that my neurologist is working at. Or, I guess I should say, my former neurologist. He only worked there for six months (or, if you actually take the time to look at a calendar, less than six months, which makes this whole thing worse) before switching to a new hospital that is far enough away from where I live that it is not even worth getting a referral to continue to see him, because the commute is an hour and a half one way. It would literally only be worth putting the planning, time, and effort into that if there were absolutely no other neurologist in this area which took my Medicaid HMO, which still makes me glad that I switched HMOs when I did because otherwise that might actually have been the case… I can see one of the neurologists that works in the hospital twenty minutes over from this city, which isn’t the most ideal, but it’s a lot better than the alternative of that, let me tell you. I got a call from that hospital yesterday to let me know that my appointment with him had to be canceled for that reason, and to set me up for a visit with one of their neurologists at that hospital.

But seriously, if it’s not one thing it is something else. I’d just like to be able to keep seeing a neurologist…

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