Saturday, February 24, 2007


Time is not something that I've ever really had a good perspective or understanding of. I frequently over-estimate and under-estimate how long it will take me to do something, when I will arrive somewhere or leave some place. I've also never been one who is good at waiting. Sure, I like to say that I accept the pace at which the world and my life moves and that I've made peace with this and let the universe take care of me. But the truth is I fucking hate waiting.

When I'm waiting I obsess over time. Counting out the many scenarios: So if Blue Cross Blue Shield pre-approves me on the first time and that takes 8 weeks, and then Dr. Kuzon's office gets me a date within 6 weeks this means I could have surgery ___________ (fill in the blank with a new date that seems farther and farther away each time I make the calculation) I think about the surgery scheduler writing a letter, about the doctor signing the letter, I think about UM-GCS adding additional attachments, I think about what the postal worker who picks up the mail looks like, and wonder and imagine how big of a stack of papers my claim is buried under in someones inbox.

And as much as I've resisted feeling it and admitting it, waiting has become a major part of my transition. I want control when there is none. I don't want to wait for the legal and medical world to give me the go-ahead to self actualize.

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