Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Yesterday ...

My pain meds worked well enough to get me to the clinic despite how my legs and back felt when I woke up. I talked to the doctor about the suggested tests, and she agreed with some, had questions about others, and rejected a few as not being relevant. She wasn't sure they'd all be covered, and said not to complain to her if the lab sent me a bill, but the phlebotomist seemed certain they all would be. I've got my referral for the wrist X-ray -- I need to get out to Catonsville next week for that.

The finger-stick for the blood sugar test didn't feel especially wide or deep -- it hurt about as much as an average stick at home, much less than some days -- produced about twenty or thirty times as much blood as was needed (okay, that's still just one drop, but it was a huge drop that looked impressive on my finger) and then took a long time to stop bleeding. So I figured my body was in a mood to surrender Precious Bodily Fluids easily ... but when it came time to draw blood from a vein, the last vial only filled up about a fifth of the way before the flow stopped. (I didn't count how many vials there were before that.) I was told it'd be enough for one of the tests anyhow. It was kind of funny to watch though -- blood streaming out into the vials at a good pace, then suddenly it just shut off.

After that, I decided to push on to the grocery store. Along the way I was assaulted with a missile, but fortunately the assailant, who had been shouting at me from most of a block away for about three blocks, was acting solo, was not as committed to the attack as the folks who beat me up in 2005, and despite having good aim, made his throw from far enough away that I didn't even need to draw on my long neglected dodgeball skills to escape the blow, just take a step back and to the side. Impressive distance with a pretty heavy rock -- its impact on the pavement was dramatic. Then he wanted to have a 'conversation', consisting mostly of asking me in various tones of voice "what the fuck" I was doing.

(Excuse me, asshole, but the technical term for what I was doing was "minding my own business", an activity I heartily reccommend.)

He acted like I was doing something to him. What the hell? I'm not the one who spent several minutes bellowing then hurled a big-ass rock!

After my change of direction (I'd reached the cross street I wanted to turn onto) brought our paths closer than minimum comfortable yelling-at-the-weirdo range (and after he'd thrown the big-ass rock), he acted less fierce, and finally adopted my own tactic of walking away (at last!) after exhibiting his repertoire of variations on "What the fuck are you doing?".

All the fuck I was doing was trying to walk from the clinic to the grocery. But today seemed to be "yell at D'Glenn" day. I ignored most of it, as well as the folks in the shopping center saying loudly "to each other" that they needed a cameraphone, (I almost turned around to take their picture at that point), but y'know, sometimes normal people annoy the hell out of me. The fellow at a stop sign who felt the need to open his car door to lean out and shout an epithet, for example, who, when challenged, insisted that he knew my sexual orientation better than I do because my shoes revealed it all, had me both puzzled and annoyed. (OTOH, a couple of women complimented those same shoes. And a kid who looked startled when he saw me, asked a moment later, "All you're doin' is just representin' you, right?" and seemed quite satisfied with the answer, "Yeah, I'm just being me.")

I remember when I first saw the rock-thrower (I hadn't bothered turning around when he was shouting at me from behind and across the street; I could tell his distance by sound and figured he was too far away to worry about until I needed to cross the street) -- when I first saw him I noticed the rock in his hand, and thought, "Oh come on, he's not really planning to throw that, is he?" I didn't expect him to, but I did know it was there, and it did occur to me to hope that if he did throw it, he would do so from far enough away to dodge easily. As we disengaged, I thought I heard somebody else chuckle at my pointing out to him, "I'm just walking to the store; you're the one getting all excited about it."

I considered calling the police, but come on, this is Baltimore -- I would've waited forever just to be told that since the rock missed a complaint was pointless, then have snide remarks made about me not quite out of earshot for "wanting to call it a hate crime because I'm transgendered", rather than wanting to call it a hate crime because everything he said during the entire interaction was about my clothing or his presumption about my orientation, and the assailant would've been long gone anyhow. It was easier just to walk away despite knowing that my lack of action contributes to the under-reporting of hate crimes. (Not having been injured, and not expecting criminal charges to be filed on the grounds of a "he threw a rock at me and missed" complaint, the crime statistics would be the main point of calling the police.) Still, the idea that someone would commit assault on somebody who was clearly trying not to engage, and then ask me "what the fuck" I thought I was doing ... makes me wonder what kind of logic works in that guy's universe.

Anyhow, I picked up a few crucial items at the supermarket, just stuff like bread, cheese, onions, and walked all the way back despite having tired myself out terribly by then and my shoulders hurting, once I realized I didn't quite have enough cash to pay for both groceries and bus fare. All in all a successful if bloody annoying day, in that I got done the bits that I really, really needed to get done. Then I fed Perrine and myself, and settled down to start writing this, and fell asleep halfway through.

I'm still trying to decide whether I feel well enough today to get out for a second day in a row, to go do fun things this time. I didn't stay asleep long enough, and have been up long enough to be wondering how early the next crash will be. It's getting to be almost too late to arrange a ride to the recorder club meeting this afternoon, and I'm feeling only marginally well enough to cope, so I think I'm going to put that off (I'll try to get to it next month) and rest up in hope of being able to attend a birthday party tonight if I can get a ride. Maybe if I can get a nap now ...