X-Ray

Okay, I've gotten out of the habit of doing this. To a certain extent, I feel like noodling around on Facebook and Myspace have taken too much of my attention away from writing.

***

I spent much of the evening in the Tarrant County Public Health Department clinic last night. Seems that, again, I ended up with a positive skin test for tuberculosis. I had a series of positives as a child, and my mother always had to make a big stink to get me in school.

So last night I was to have a chest X-ray.

I showed up and was immediately uncomfortable. Look, on a daily basis I work with or am around immigrants and refugees from across the globe. You might be surprised to learn that yours truly, with the particular sensitivity to smells, somehow got used to the fact that a lobby full of clients here doesn't exactly smell like a rose bush.

Bearing all that in mind, I hope you understand when I say that the lobby at the health department was a very uncomfortable place to be. The place reeked of alcohol sweat. I chose a seat at the far end of the room, facing the couple dozen folks in there. They mostly seemed to know each other, chatting back and forth about their jobs and the like.

They called me in to do a chart, asking me a million questions. The nurse was professional, and seemed relieved to talk to someone "who understands." More on her later.

She started giving me this rundown of tuberculosis prescriptions, saying that the short course takes about five months, but the doc was more likely to give me the nine month course.

That got my attention. I asked her very clearly if she thought I'd end up with drugs for this, and she said there was a very good chance. I told her I wasn't happy about that because I'm NOT SICK. She went on this whole schpiel about how they can't force me to take my meds… ugh.

They sent me back to the lobby, where I stared into space and began to wonder what the hell was going on.

***

Months and months of pills, which the nurse made clear were a bit rough on the liver. I don't need this, I thought.

***

I was hungry, tired, worried, and more than a little annoyed when they finally called me in for my chest X-ray. I'm sure the doctor was brilliant, but he had to try about three times to explain to me that I have an inactive TB infection that is not contagious. Long about that last attempt, after he said, "You're not hearing what I'm saying," I must admit that I DID think, I have a master's degree, and if you were explaining this clearly I DO think I'd understand it..

It amounts to this: I've got the bug, but my immune system suppresses it completely. I have a one percent chance of the infection becoming active. It's usually the result of having a disease such as AIDS, or taking a long dose of steroids. I am not contagious.

***

Moving forward, I'm not supposed to get skin tests anymore, just chest X-rays. My agency requires that I get tested every two years.

***

That was two hours of my life I'll never get back. I think the nurse, while professional, does too good of a job of scaring the bejeebers out of patients.

***

I'm opening a counseling office in Hurst Christian Church. I have my license. My business cards are on the way, my brochure is almost done, and it's time to get to work. I'm excited!

***

In my life, I have had any number of musical obsessions at any given time. Beatles, Eric Johnson, Jellyfish, Helmet, Tool, Billie Holiday, whomever. I don't know, though, that I've ever had as much tolerance for repetition as I do with Porcupine Tree. I simply never, ever get sick of listening to them.

***

For the second time in my adult life, the guy I voted for is president. It's like MOBB said about the last democratic president: "What didn't you like about his presidency—the peace or the prosperity?"

***

The sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you.

***

[Edit]



They held a mock election at Wolfboy's school. After the results came in, he chastised a friend for voting for McCain: "You only voted for him because he's white!"



Ha! My sweet, big-hearted child whose dearest friend is the bi-racial girl in the daycare, spoke his mind.



And it got him some version of the "we don't blurt stuff out about race" talk from the daycare lady. He's begging me not to talk to her about it, but I'd really like to know exactly what she felt she had to say to my son for this.