Divine Providence, Part I

I just experienced a divine intervention.

An intervention in psychological/behavioral circles occurs when a circle of family or friends intervenes in destructive/addictive behavior. A divine intervention occurs when circumstances &/or Divine Providence step in to create circumstances in which it is difficult or impossible to escape making a positive choice against one's will.

I'm making this up on the fly.

At the end of November, after 7 months of unemployment, I received a job offer, contingent upon passing a physical exam. This, I was assured, consisted of visiting a specific clinic and having a doctor ascertain that I could walk and talk. Piece of cake. I was still floating [from receiving a job offer at last] when I nonchalantly waltzed into the Dockinnabocks medical clinic waving my piece of paper and sat in the lobby to take my turn. I was fairly revved up, and there was rather loud Christmas music of the least therapeutic genre playing on the radio, which I always find intensely annoying, but I was not concerned. I had visited this specific clinic many times in the past and been satisfied with my care.

I failed the physical.

For one thing, I failed to establish a rapport with the MA who briskly shuffled me through the weight, eye exam, and urine dip--I had demanded a "hat" for this, tired of trying to hit the mark using these UA cups provided--and vital signs. She really became offended when she took my blood pressure, which was somewhat high. I did not make any particular response to this, and perhaps I was supposed to express concern or shock. Frankly, I have come to regard my blood pressure as mine, my own property, and not anyone else's business to criticize.

After being left to stew for awhile, the doctor came in and rechecked my BP and by this time it was really high. About ten or twenty years ago I discovered that many times when my BP is checked, my anxiety about it causes an alteration in the phenomenon being measured, and it inevitably rises. No doubt if I were properly healthy, this would not be a problem, but my paying attention to having my BP taken always raises my anxiety. I kept thinking about how high my BP was last year, and sorrowfully contemplating about the lack of interest this doctor would show if she saw me shivering under a bridge somewhere having failed to land a job.

Well, the doctor was more brisk and efficient and unfriendly than the MA had been. I was caused to undergo a series of tests which felt as if I was offering to enroll in the military, culminating in what could have passed for a sobriety test. I'm neither adept nor graceful nor athletic nor kinesthetic, so the result was a certain level of humiliation.

The doctor informed me angrily that she was not authorizing me to go to work until my blood pressure was under control. I engaged in the always-losing slippery slope argument that I would be staring homelessness in the face without a job, listed the multiple stressors I experienced while I have been unemployed, and stated that I would rather be dead than homeless. She asked if that was a threat, and I said no, then we were in the hallway and I was left standing, invisible, not shown to the exit, but abandoned without instructions.

This was, by the way, also a wonderful lesson in customer service from the standpoint of a health care consumer. As in, how it feels to receive bad customer service. So I stood in the hallway where I was dropped, overhearing the MD phone my human resources contact, until I was instructed by someone to wait in the lobby, where I waited until the MD saw me and instructed me to leave.

I'm not happy with my behavior in the clinic; however, it was largely the culmination of a long and difficult summer coupled with what I perceived as very unfriendly manners on the part of the staff.

Immediately the next morning I visited the FriendlyClinic, which has facilites on-site for visiting either a  walk-in side, or offices for appointments with doctors. I explained the problem, took the medication I was prescribed, and began checking my blood pressure once or twice a day and taking care with what I ate. Immediately I began to feel better. Hypertension really does have symptoms and can be sensed. I made an appointment with a permanent doctor and came in for another walk-in visit in between to make sure my medication was on track.

I realized, by exercising logic, that death was now off the table. This was my divine intervention. If I was meant to die, the situation virtually forcing me to comply with medical treatment could easily not have happened. So I instructed myself to stop dwelling on death all the time.

I also received assistance from family to enable me to make multiple visits to the doctors, and purchase my medication, paying cash, as the COBRA for my old insurance had not been affordable. For two weeks I have been white-knuckling it about whether or not this employer would care to wait while I took care of this medical issue and could be authorized to work. I have also been seeing aspects of my personality with which I am increasingly disenchanted--a wonderful opportunity to change.

Today I reported to my actual MD for the first time. Astoundingly young, yet knowledgeable, insightful and respectful, he graciously wrote a letter I could present to the Dockinnabocks, which still held my fate in its hands.  His letter stated that I am now under medical care and being treated for hypertension which, although not yet within normal limits, is expected to arrive there soon.

I had hope.