Wednesday, September 01, 2004

I've decided that the Republican National Convention is not good for my mental health. I'm trying to avoid it completely, but it's not working very well. I'm just too much of a media junkie to impose a complete news blackout. And I realize that I'm really, really angry. I'm angry at the GOP for exploiting September 11 while ignoring the many ways in which New York City represents everything they despise in the world. (You know: religious diversity, cosmopolitanism, intellectualism, multi-lingualism, gay people. That kind of thing.) I'm angry at "Republican moderates" who talk about the GOP welcomes people with differing opinions on social issues, while conveniently forgetting to mention that it doesn't matter what you believe: if you vote for Republican candidates, you are furthering the Republicans' homophobic, anti-woman agenda. I cannot believe they had the gall to play up Democratic resistance to civil rights in the 40s and 50s without getting into the bit where segregationist Democrats bolted to the Republicans after the national Democratic party rejected segregation. Do they think we just failed to notice that Strom Thurmond, Dixie-crat extraordinaire, found a warm embrace in the Republican party? They're hypocrites and liars, and they are bad for my blood pressure.

Speaking of which, I'm getting a bunch of doctor's appointments out of the way this week. As long as I'm symptom-free, I only have to see the doctors every three months or so, which is a big relief. Today I have the last one of this cycle, with the rheumatologist. And I'm a little nervous about it. I feel pretty good, but my hair still seems to be falling out, and I'm nauseous all the time. I'm hoping that it's nothing: I could just be imagining that I'm losing more hair than normal, and I've been eating a lot more meat than I usually do, which could account for the nausea. But I'm kind of worried that some blood test is going to come back funny, and then I'll be back in the whole miserable medical thing.

The good news, though, is that my hearing is still normal. And now that I'm doing better, my ear doctor, who used to be an obnoxious, patronizing jerk, has suddenly become as nice as could be. He smiled; he asked me about my work; he talked to me like I had a functioning brain. I can't figure out what happened. Was he rude to me because he thought I blamed him for not making me better? Does he not like patients whom he can't cure? Was I unintentionally rude to him before because I was pretty miserable? Was he put off by my prednisone ugliness? I don't get it.

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