27 September 2017

Missed Appointment with Death

       9/15/17 Well, I cried all day, etc... Had a headache on all sides from it... long story short, I had my son do all of the doing, so I could keep calm, i.e. not hysterical and unable to drive.
On the way, I SWEAR, in EQUIDISTANT Measure of mileage A CAR ALMOST HIT MY CAR, by swerving over the line and heading straight toward me- THREE times! And they seemed to only swerve back because I would hold on my car's horn button. And I swear that the drivers had smirks on their faces! I was SO upset, each time, I would and say, "What the FUCK was THAT!" 
       So we get into the vet office, and there's no one there but staff. I'm coming in all hoarse throat and barely speaking above a whisper. I go to check in, and the woman who was dishing attitude towards me when we went to pick the cats up on August 24th was there. She just scans me, then gets up to get the folder. She flips a paper out, in duplicate form, and points to the checked box and says in a little flippy sneer, "You just have to sign right here to say that you don't want to take any ashes home." I get this wild feeling of panic in my chest. I say, calmly but firmly, "That is not what I said that I wanted." I point to the box where it says, "Individual (tin)". "THAT is what I said." I see that she is getting incensed.
      "PfffffT." she mutters, tossing her hair aside. She takes the pen and performs rapid scribbles over the "communal" box, then marks a overly deliberate X in the "Individual (tin)". The form now looks undiscernable and confusing. Which choice was actually marked? I ask politely (remember, I'm really fucking vulnerable right now), "Could you fill out a fresh form, so there's no confusion?" I'm beseeching her. This is a bereavement situation. I've been going to this vet with my cats for years. Well, she apparently is about ready to blow.
       She goes into the back into the corner, and two vet-techs gather over to her. One of them keeps looking towards me. I hear some angry whispering. I get a horrible feeling all thoughout my chest. I walk out. I go sit in the car with my son, and Dreamy, and I'm really pissed off. "That same fuckin' woman in there! Throwin' me attitude, remember from that day that we picked the cats up?"
       "Uh, no, not really."
       I mean, you know, I'm coming into this place to GIVE DEATH to a living creature. And even without all that "mumbo-jumbo", this is a profession which requires a decent amount of sympathy and respect for the clients and their bereavement. I said, "You know, this is hard enough without some Bitch giving me attitude! What the fuck did I do to her? I don't even know her name!"
       My son turned, looked me straight in the eye and said, "You should go in there and SAY that." Now, I WAS going to just internalize the hurt and pain that I was feeling, as always, and just shrink away... Because having Dreamy's Home-Going performed there all of a sudden felt SO Wrong! I was just going to start the car and pull out. Keep it to myself. I'm good at that. But him  looking at me so pointedly, and just the simple words he chose to go with that look... It did something to me. I felt like, "Shit man! I AM!"
       And I went back in there, where one of the nice vet-techs had come out to meet me, and that woman was back at her desk. And I said, firmly, evenly and audibly, to the air, "This is hard enough without some BITCH giving me attitude. I'm going to do something else." I gave the door a good pull behind me.
       The tenor tone in my voice reverberated around the space in a ricochet, assisted by the tile floors and absence of fabric furniture. 'Cause, you know... crying, deep grief, drained for other reasons, my voice was settled in a much lower octave. Not any anger. I was just actually speaking out. I grew out of being accustomed to doing this and had seemingly traded the ability to be bold for being afraid of repercussions if I was too outspoken. Why am I always being so nice? I mean it is in my nature, but I'm really getting slaughtered lately. If my son hadn't looked at me just the way he did, and then said what he said, I would never have dreamed of doing and saying that. because, really, who acts so nasty to a client who is in a situation as I was in? Unnecessary. Compassionless.
       I wasn't going to make peace with that. Dreamy will be fine for another day or two. I'll make calls in the morning. Please, we all want Quick, but Sacred, Solemn, Respectful. Thank You.
Now what was about those three cars and drivers..... Hmmm....

PS- Saturday, September 16, 2017-
       I called the vet office that's just down the road from us. I spoke with a very compassionate woman, named Jen. I gave her a brief synopsis of the situation and the experience that inspired me to turn around and take my family back home, and she was properly horrified.       
       Because, I'm thinking to myself, as always when people are projecting all of their crap onto me and making me the blame for whatever issues they have, "Was it me?" I ask myself this, even if I have clearly done nothing wrong, or done anything at all.  This of course is another pattern that had been drummed into me when I was a little girl, that everything was my fault, including being born!
       Apparently, this is a pattern of self-regard that is surfacing to be looked at, acknowledged and dissolved, with Love unto Creator Source. I am being pushed to stand up and stand my own integrity, without fear of being punished for it. It's a biggie.
        So, Jen, thank you very much for being horrified at how I had been treated in my grief. Jen says, "It's a hard enough decision to make without the staff treating you that way. That's horrible! I'm so sorry that that happened with you."
       I said, "Well, thank you for the empathy, well sympathy and compassion. I felt so horrible. I mean, Dreamy was in the room when I gave birth to my son, ya' know? I had her mother, I was there when she was born. Eighteen years. And her son is here, too."
       "Oh my goodness! She's your baby."
So, the rough news, now is that I currently don't have the cash flow to afford this vet's charges. $156+ for the euthanasia (the other vet charges $39-) and $256+ for the individual cremation (the other vet charges $177). DAMN. More phone calls must be made, more colloidal silver administered, more prayers to be uttered. But no more subbing. The veins and the muscles in my head can't tolerate any more of that.
       So, that's that for this moment. My head still hurts from yesterday, and I need to get my self centered and clear headed, as I need to finish my psychic detective work and do the clearing prayer for my Soul Realignment client, who is also waiting on me for help.
       One more day...

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