Friday, August 01, 2008

Everyting Old Is New Again

New city, new players. Organise a scene with a medical top I have recently met, with a plan for me to be stapled (which I have never done) and sutured (which I have only done once). As it could turn out kind of interesting, have arranged for another mate who does such things to come and sit in and help out, and one to photograph it. Still a bit sickly and a bit stressed, but dose self up on codeine and drinks lots of water and get everything sorted out in back room-- lights, equipment, chairs, heater. Waiting, waiting, waiting, its almost an hour after start time and Monster and I wondering what be happening... Then the other two arrive, but not the person with whom the scene was arranged. 'Oh,'said mate who was coming to watch 'she can't make it tonight.' 'Well,'I reply, controlling breathing and trying to maintain an even voice level 'what are we doing here then???'

Seems that the top thought she could just send someone else with the same skills, ie my friend, and didn't understand why she needed to be there. SAY WHAT???? WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE??? Its like organising to have beer with someone, then just sending someone else who can drink as well as you can, or not turning up to see a movie 'cos you're sure the person you are meeting will find someone else who can sit in the dark competently. Grr. And not so much as a text, or a call, to tell me. If I had known she wasn't coming I would have just cancelled the others, poured another vodka, cuddled up on the lounge with the Monster and watched Inspector Rex in a fuzz of painkillers and alcohol and warm snuggles. But she didn't.

Yes, I have ranted about manners and such ad infinitum in Sydney, but seems dinky old Perth, with its air of nice calm and old-fashioned values, has almost beaten it on this count. First pain I was going to get in this city, and get stood up by someone who apparently had no idea she was doing a bad thing 'cos, you know, well, there was someone else there who could do what needed to be done. No, no, no, no, NO.

This wouldn't have mattered so much (though it still would have really really really annoyed me), but I HAVEN'T HAD ANY PAIN FOR WEEKS. I have been semi-panicked for the last week and a half, holding it together through housebound-in-the-burbs and lack of queer ANYTHINGness and not having my own social circleness, and I was really looking forward to bleeding some and that snap back to my senses that a good dose of controlled pain can give. I was psyched for, I was hungry for it, I NEEDED it. And without any warning, it wasn't there. Cue large panic and restless night full of unpleasant dreams. Shouldn't be so reliant on other people, but you know, got to trust sometimes!

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