Molly Kelly's message is empowering. Maresa posted it the other day and it really moved me. If 6 minutes is too long, you can start watching at 4 minutes and get the gist of her message.
It's okay to take up space. It's okay to have opinions and express them (respectfully- don't be an asshole). It's okay to be bold. It's okay to be assertive.
I spent my time in the military trying to be invisible. I was certainly a Leper after my mishap. It followed me around for YEARS... the looks of disdain, the lack of trust in my abilities, the opinion that I should just slink away into the darkness. There were a few people who saw my mishap as an opportunity for me to grow, for me to become empowered and for me to prevent others from making the same mistake. They were very few. Most people avoided me like the plague.
My advice? If you see someone who has been kicked in the balls maybe you should go over and say, "Hey there, you crazy muthafucka, let's go have lunch so I can be entertained by your obvious insanity. How else could you have survived a ball-kicking like that?" And they won't feel so alone and you won't be an asshole. Win/ win for everyone!
I'm not sure my confidence ever really recovered from my experiences at my original squadron and it certainly wasn't helped by my experiences at my new squadron (I was still seen as some sort of diseased leper- kind of hilarious that I DID develop a disease...oh life, you crazy, ironic rollercoaster). I was okay with being invisible. I was okay with my voice being drowned out by people who thought they had better or more experience. I was a huge advocate of NVGs. I got into arguments all the time about them. I couldn't see a reason to ever take them off at night. EVER. My reasons were (and still are) valid. I am SO happy to hear from Jeff that wearing goggles on practically every night flight is expected and not the exception based on some of the reasons I have articulated in the past. I should have been more confident in myself and my opinion.
But I tried to keep a low profile. Don't rock the boat. Don't draw attention. Just survive without fucking anything (else) up.
Then I got sick. And I quickly discovered that I was gonna have to be loud, proud, and in charge in order to be seen or acknowledged by medical personnel. I have screamed, cursed, hit things, and all around had to be smarter, faster, and louder in order for my voice to be heard. The good thing is that I'm fairly intelligent. I know my body and I have done a LOT of research. However, I was seen as just a stupid patient by a large number of doctors and nurses. The frustration at times was absolutely overwhelming, especially when I couldn't breathe and felt like shit. The frustration is still overwhelming. But now I won't shut up. I won't be quiet. I WILL be heard.
True, there are ways to do it tactfully and I'm still mastering those... heh heh. Honey does not always catch more flies than vinegar, though. Besides, I don't want to catch flies, I want people to do their damn job. However, I'm always amazed how my last resort of acting like a complete crazy, cursing, frothing-at-the-mouth bitch gets me exactly what I need. Ladies- never underestimate the power of being a crazy bitch. Dudes don't like crazy bitches. In the right context, being a crazy bitch can be very, very effective. Am I a difficult patient? Youbetcha. I have NO problems with it. I want to know why I'm being given pills I haven't heard of and weren't mentioned by the doctor. I want to know possible side effects so I don't have to ever endure another night of red-man syndrome where I so uncomfortable and the nurses ignored me (although now I google them myself because I have a much better phone). I want to know when my Transplant Team was contacted (well, now I just call them myself since I don't trust anyone). I demand accountability. It keeps the weak, ineffective and timid people away from me. It keeps me alive.
I definitely see the irony of my desire to stay invisible in the military environment that demands confidence and assertiveness and my need to be confident and assertive in the medical environment that would love for me to stay invisible.
I have been forced by my medical issues to become the person I should have been all along. My opinions and thoughts have value. They can prevent bad things from happening to other people. I have had SO MUCH STUPID SHIT happen... if someone isn't learning something from my mistakes then what was the point? YOUR opinions and thoughts have value. I'll bet that even if others are scared to agree with you, know that someone somewhere probably does.
One of the things that this video reminded me of is what I call the sidewalk power struggle. You know... when people are walking 2 or 3 abreast across an entire sidewalk and refuse to duck into a single file so that there is room for you on your 50% of the sidewalk. It's mostly men (although women can be just as bad). For some reason they expect me to give up my rightful half, to duck out of their way. I'm expected to take up less space. I stand tall and proud and stand my ground, shoulder checking them if necessary. It's OKAY to take up space!! We can stand our ground. We do not have to be meek and weak, ladies. We do not have to cower. I know we've all done it, even if we don't want to admit it.
I have a new therapist. I can't make this up- my old therapist didn't know my name. Not even kidding. I'm surrounded by idiots. So my new therapist is having an issue with Tricare paying for the visits. Since I called before I switched to ensure a smooth transition, I was ready for the fight. Boxing gloves, check. Head in the game, check. Coffee so I'm firing on all 8 cylinders, check.
My first call is to Tricare Prime. I often have to hang up and call back because the idiocy there is ah-mazing. So I'm asking about my unpaid visits. I'm told that since she didn't get pre-authorization that the first 4 visits were considered point-of-service because they don't back-date claims and I'll have to appeal the decision... please click on linky loo to access form DD umptyfrats and thank you for calling Tricare. Insert "Katie must be smarter than the damn Tricare people" routine. I told her that dealing with Tricare is the reason I need therapy! I asked about my 8 visits allowed without a pre-auth (I don't need pre-auth anyway since I'm also Tricare For Life but that's a story for another day). Silence. Well, there are only 8 allowed per fiscal year. GREAT! I say. Since the fiscal year started in Oct 2014 and my other therapist had authorizations through 2015 (which I'm SURE you can access in your computer system), ALL of my visits to my new therapist should be covered! How do we get that fixed in the system? Silence. Uhhh.... Hold on, I'm transferring you to Claims (I think I was in Authorizations). I get to Claims and she says, Uhhh.... I'm transferring you to another Claims department. I end up at Tricare For Life. I laugh. These people pay my bills (not Tricare Prime- again- it's so convoluted I should get a damn medal for knowing how this shit works) and generally have a modicum of intelligence. I know I should call them first, but I have to ensure Tricare Prime doesn't have stuff fucked up in their system which could be causing the problems for TFL.
I can't even tell you how often I called Tricare for some billing issue (before I had TFL) and they told me I needed to update DEERS. NO. I'm updated in DEERS. Wait... YES- let's call DEERS and do a conference call! (they can do that, you know) Guess what? Tricare was all jacked up. Ugh. See why I need therapy?
The lady at Tricare For Life looks at my info. She says, "Oh, I see that it is a coding problem. It was billed under code 123456. It should have been billed under code 345678. Just have her resubmit the paperwork and you'll be good to go." And the angels sang. Katie did a happy dance of joy because not everyone related to the healthcare/ insurance industry is stupid. But I'll be cautiously optimistic... I assume nothing until the bill gets paid.
It's okay to take up space. It's okay to want your voice to be heard. Don't be afraid of what others think of your voice. Your experiences have made you practically an expert at SOMETHING. Don't be afraid to utilize your experiences in order to help yourself or others. I still have fear, I'm not gonna lie. I have been on the receiving end of YEARS of armchair quarterbacks judging my life, my choices, and my mistakes. That amount of intense, unrelenting scrutiny changes a person.
But my thoughts, opinions, experiences and unique perspective DO matter. I have always told myself that all of the shit I endured while at 49 (and later at the beginning of 41) will have been worth it if I prevented even ONE person from having a mishap. If I encouraged even ONE person to assert themselves or speak up (yeah, yeah, the irony of this isn't lost on me either.... ugh). If ONE person catches an in extremis situation in the making before it becomes in extremis. Do I know if that has happened? No. Does it matter if I know? No, actually, it doesn't.
My 30s have been really hard, both physically (PH and transplant) and emotionally (PH and transplant and dealing with idiots everywhere I turn). The past 2 years have been really hard on me physically. I have struggled and fought through my inability to breathe well in order to gain strength, endurance, and muscle. It has taken 2 years to finally feel like I've accomplished something. To finally feel like this rejection will not take me down. To be able to walk up hills and stairs and down the block without getting winded. I'm still at 40% lung capacity. That hasn't changed. But my body's ability to function on that 40% has improved immensely.
I know I'm not the only one who is struggling with whatever this decade of emotional crud is. I guess it's acknowledging and then moving past all of the things that have prevented us from being exactly who we were supposed to be all those years. Perhaps it's knowing that person we were has shaped us into the person we are. It's finding strength within ourselves, knowing that we have value. Knowing that we are enough exactly as we are.
I definitely do not think I am enough. I'm working on it. I just keep hoping that some magical door will open when I turn 40 in a few years and I can leave all of this self-doubt and other crap behind. I'm also extremely paranoid that I'll finally figure my shit out and then I'll die. Sad trumpet! Will someone in their 40s tell me if the magical door opens? Inquiring minds wanna know ;-)
I'll leave you with a little motivational song. Cheesy and hilarious, but oh so true. Don't let anyone break your stride. Your speed is the right speed.
Oh, and I did tell a guy one time (I actually did like him) that I had to get my laundry clean. Tee hee. Well, I did!!! I crack up every time I hear that in the song. We'd already spent most of the day together and I was living in a condo that had communal washers/ dryers. Not like I could just leave it in the dryer for hours and I didn't want to do laundry in the middle of the night. Sort of fizzled after that. HA! I still feel a little bad about that...
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