In a world of lies, is it appropriate to manipulate a future by planting signposts in the here and now? For someone who doesn't lie, it is a question I ask myself about once a year; not very often because I am aware of how manipulation is a form of deceit. There is a moment we all experience after a confrontation, disagreement, or heated discussion, when we have walked away and THEN think 'Oh, I wish I had said......' whatever it is. There is a word for this, which escapes me right now. I have looked in my box of ideas and my lost property box and still can't find it.
One can't help thinking that our lives could be improved if we just have all the keys to unlock the bars to success, before we need to take that path. If the doors are all open we have a wider choice, right? Of course, there are two questions that need to be addressed: how many different futures, or avenues of choice, can we open up for ourselves, and what are the shape of the keys. We also have to bear in mind that we can't all have the same scope of activity in bettering our lives. What if I thought it would be a good idea NOT to go to a place where I would otherwise meet my future partner. Worse still, what if my future partner had a future partner that 'engineered' that they attend the place where I meet both of them and I then never pursue a relationship, with someone who WOULD have been my future partner.
Yesterday, my letter arrived at Saffron Walden Community Hospital. It said to cancel an appointment that was too far away for me to attend. Once I had sent it, I phoned my doctor's surgery to make an appointment to see my doctor for the same problem that initiated the need for an exploratory x-ray.
'All her appointment slots are taken up,' she explained, after I had identified myself. 'Does it have to be her?'
'Well, maybe I have an outdated outlook on doctor appointments, but I feel that if someone sees their own doctor there is a lot of saved time where the doctor does not need to look on the patients record for any clues on what the patient is rattling on about. I think it saves time if the doctor is able to recall the original complaint or know where the malady lies. But, that is just me I suppose, so yes, I would like to see my doctor, please.'
'All her appointment slots are taken up. I can put you on the waiting list?'
'Fine, let's do that then.'
That conversation happened on Tuesday. What should have happened was that my appointment with a doctor outside of my surgery, the week before, which resulted in the appointment for an x-ray in Saffron Walden, would be completely stymied and reduced to a dead-end. After all, a letter stating that one wants to entirely cancel an appointment does not open up an avenue for conversation. However, that is not how it works in the NHS. Someone needs to make a record of the cancellation. And THERE! Right there! The last entry on my medical record is an insistence that I will see only my own doctor; someone who he / me is familiar with. This insistence is dated the same day the letter is sent. The receptionist I spoke to in person at my local doctor's surgery the same day, had also made a note that I would only accept hospital appointments close to home.
A couple of things here: I was seen by someone outside of my doctor's surgery (not one of the surgeries doctor's) and then a complete reduction of that consultation, by the patient, to have no significant outcome. What went wrong? Here then, there should be an investigation as to why I cancelled the hospital appointment and made a new doctor's appointment. The reality of it, is that I needed to completely start again - that future of going to Saffron Walden Hospital may have turned out fine or not. I might, with some effort, have gotten myself to the hospital appointment and discovered an Anglo-Saxon hoard somewhere in the hospital grounds, and received a significant reward; or I might have been kidnapped because I was mistaken for being valuable. (Let's not rule out the Stockholm Syndrome making me fall in love with one of the kidnappers before they recognise their mistake and let me go). In any case, there were openings for different futures. Even though I did not even consider imagining any amount of futures, my main aim was to just STOP one of them.
Yesterday lunch-time, I managed to answer the phone before it went to answer phone mode. A mature woman's voice. It was Saffron Walden Hospital. Gears crunched in my head after my initial cheery greeting until I had the right attitude - fun and not at all tense or peeved. Got it!
'It is amazing how your letter got here so quickly.' she gushed. Do mature women gush?
'Yes,' I thought, 'first class letters get delivered the next day. Oh, of course, everyone wants next day delivery; it is so new and fresh to have that kind of service; and you have forgotten that it is not a new phenomenon'.
'Ha, Yes!' £1.70,' I said.
'We can make an appointment for you on the same day, closer to home, if you would like.'
She then gave me four different times for available appointments at a hospital seven miles away. All the times were for the same day I would have attended the hospital appointment, if I had not cancelled it, in Saffron Walden, one hundred and seventy miles away.
I accepted one for late afternoon and then, curious, I played with her. 'If I set off at seven in the morning on my bicycle, I should get there in time.'
'We can make it later, if you like.'
This person is bending over backwards so much to help me, she must be a contortionist. How come, though, there are suddenly at least five available appointments on the same day, two days away, at a hospital close to my home? There are three solutions. The doctor who saw me made a mistake and referred me for an x-ray to her local area hospital; there are multiple universes and I have been transported into one of them; and when I stitched my day together after it had been shredded a couple of days ago, I accidentally included my hope as a reality.
My ego crept in and said, 'It is because they know you are clever and will probably make a coherent complaint. You consistently make them look silly.'
Hakim, my spirit avatar whom I had manifested to keep me safe from my violent brother, while I am sleeping, chipped in with, 'They are confused by someone who knows analogue techniques. It is now considered to be an arcane and mystical art. Someone who can use both the digital AND the analogue world is a strange being today, a strange being, indeed.' He would say that though; there is nothing digital about a spirit avatar.
And then, Harrari, the abandoned alien I found in a wood I was once living in, whispered to me, 'Because they think you are nuts and just want you to cancel the appointment with your own doctor; she is busy, FOOL!'
Who changed my future?
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[ 7 minute read ]
Who changed my future?
In a world of lies, is it appropriate to manipulate a future by planting signposts in the here and now? For someone who doesn't lie, it is a question I ask myself about once a year; not very often because I am aware of how manipulation is a form of deceit. There is a moment we all experience after a confrontation, disagreement, or heated discussion, when we have walked away and THEN think 'Oh, I wish I had said......' whatever it is. There is a word for this, which escapes me right now. I have looked in my box of ideas and my lost property box and still can't find it.
One can't help thinking that our lives could be improved if we just have all the keys to unlock the bars to success, before we need to take that path. If the doors are all open we have a wider choice, right? Of course, there are two questions that need to be addressed: how many different futures, or avenues of choice, can we open up for ourselves, and what are the shape of the keys. We also have to bear in mind that we can't all have the same scope of activity in bettering our lives. What if I thought it would be a good idea NOT to go to a place where I would otherwise meet my future partner. Worse still, what if my future partner had a future partner that 'engineered' that they attend the place where I meet both of them and I then never pursue a relationship, with someone who WOULD have been my future partner.
Yesterday, my letter arrived at Saffron Walden Community Hospital. It said to cancel an appointment that was too far away for me to attend. Once I had sent it, I phoned my doctor's surgery to make an appointment to see my doctor for the same problem that initiated the need for an exploratory x-ray.
'All her appointment slots are taken up,' she explained, after I had identified myself. 'Does it have to be her?'
'Well, maybe I have an outdated outlook on doctor appointments, but I feel that if someone sees their own doctor there is a lot of saved time where the doctor does not need to look on the patients record for any clues on what the patient is rattling on about. I think it saves time if the doctor is able to recall the original complaint or know where the malady lies. But, that is just me I suppose, so yes, I would like to see my doctor, please.'
'All her appointment slots are taken up. I can put you on the waiting list?'
'Fine, let's do that then.'
That conversation happened on Tuesday. What should have happened was that my appointment with a doctor outside of my surgery, the week before, which resulted in the appointment for an x-ray in Saffron Walden, would be completely stymied and reduced to a dead-end. After all, a letter stating that one wants to entirely cancel an appointment does not open up an avenue for conversation. However, that is not how it works in the NHS. Someone needs to make a record of the cancellation. And THERE! Right there! The last entry on my medical record is an insistence that I will see only my own doctor; someone who he / me is familiar with. This insistence is dated the same day the letter is sent. The receptionist I spoke to in person at my local doctor's surgery the same day, had also made a note that I would only accept hospital appointments close to home.
A couple of things here: I was seen by someone outside of my doctor's surgery (not one of the surgeries doctor's) and then a complete reduction of that consultation, by the patient, to have no significant outcome. What went wrong? Here then, there should be an investigation as to why I cancelled the hospital appointment and made a new doctor's appointment. The reality of it, is that I needed to completely start again - that future of going to Saffron Walden Hospital may have turned out fine or not. I might, with some effort, have gotten myself to the hospital appointment and discovered an Anglo-Saxon hoard somewhere in the hospital grounds, and received a significant reward; or I might have been kidnapped because I was mistaken for being valuable. (Let's not rule out the Stockholm Syndrome making me fall in love with one of the kidnappers before they recognise their mistake and let me go). In any case, there were openings for different futures. Even though I did not even consider imagining any amount of futures, my main aim was to just STOP one of them.
Yesterday lunch-time, I managed to answer the phone before it went to answer phone mode. A mature woman's voice. It was Saffron Walden Hospital. Gears crunched in my head after my initial cheery greeting until I had the right attitude - fun and not at all tense or peeved. Got it!
'It is amazing how your letter got here so quickly.' she gushed. Do mature women gush?
'Yes,' I thought, 'first class letters get delivered the next day. Oh, of course, everyone wants next day delivery; it is so new and fresh to have that kind of service; and you have forgotten that it is not a new phenomenon'.
'Ha, Yes!' £1.70,' I said.
'We can make an appointment for you on the same day, closer to home, if you would like.'
She then gave me four different times for available appointments at a hospital seven miles away. All the times were for the same day I would have attended the hospital appointment, if I had not cancelled it, in Saffron Walden, one hundred and seventy miles away.
I accepted one for late afternoon and then, curious, I played with her. 'If I set off at seven in the morning on my bicycle, I should get there in time.'
'We can make it later, if you like.'
This person is bending over backwards so much to help me, she must be a contortionist. How come, though, there are suddenly at least five available appointments on the same day, two days away, at a hospital close to my home? There are three solutions. The doctor who saw me made a mistake and referred me for an x-ray to her local area hospital; there are multiple universes and I have been transported into one of them; and when I stitched my day together after it had been shredded a couple of days ago, I accidentally included my hope as a reality.
My ego crept in and said, 'It is because they know you are clever and will probably make a coherent complaint. You consistently make them look silly.'
Hakim, my spirit avatar whom I had manifested to keep me safe from my violent brother, while I am sleeping, chipped in with, 'They are confused by someone who knows analogue techniques. It is now considered to be an arcane and mystical art. Someone who can use both the digital AND the analogue world is a strange being today, a strange being, indeed.' He would say that though; there is nothing digital about a spirit avatar.
And then, Harrari, the abandoned alien I found in a wood I was once living in, whispered to me, 'Because they think you are nuts and just want you to cancel the appointment with your own doctor; she is busy, FOOL!'