hi y'all,


it's 9pm and i have to be off the computer by midnight so let's go cat go let's get a move on.

Still having real big problems w/the alphabet, finding keys taking twice as long as it should, and the webaster and i are talkin about a song by Yo La Tengo and i can't remember the title or album, this is not like standing in the parking garage trying to get into a car that looks like the car you were driving 3 years ago, this is rock-n-roll, serious business, lifeblood, base existence, ok? i am no musicologist but can generally hold my own.


am in pretty good mood tho, seein my own doctors finally, who i have hand-picked and tortured forthwith for just such occasions as this, i am the kind of woman who will make a man out of you b/c i am shit in the leadership role, and like many women resent like fuck having to take it on, but unlike most women can't make it fit every occasion; Hillary is a special lady, like Yoko and Patti and even wholesome mommish Bonnie Raitt, but they bring more to the table than some of us more passive, take-care-of me twitches. Lotties of course are another story altogether, which we have not yet begun to examine with ice-cold, sterilized extender-speculums measuring 20 filthy feet in length. At least.


Today's doctor is my regular M.D. and runs around w/a little computer he's constantlky punching data into, but on him it's ok, he's not pretentious, he's Asian. I'm crying so say, sorry still traumatized goin over some of this, he doesn't raise his head, but pauses, says: yes. whenever you're ready. thanks dr. T.

Throwing terms at me i have never heard, man, never not once. I have a friend from psb who like me is locked out and hates that place, he'd know these terms but i can't email them b/c he has high blood pressure, and i want him to take it easy (ie not abandon me) but what a motherfucking medical fount of truth-tellin eruptions this guy is, so if you're reading me Timmy, and you're up to it, can you tell me what a T.I.A. is?

this is what dr. T thinks happened, "neurological manifistation", also what is Doppler, (weather?!) and ischemic? Dysarythia, i'm not making this shit up, of course i could look on the internet but we both know all i'll find is lies, evasions, half-truths, bullshit, hypocrisy, back-pedalin, mockery, etc ad naseum.


My neurologist, Dr. Hardass is Tuesday, and he'll know for sure. You'd like this one Timmy, he is embattled, this is his life's work, a doctor in battle, a sight for sore eyes. He asked me 3 years ago how much i drank each day and i told him pretty much the truth and he goes:

Alcoholic. Ipso-facto, undeniable, blatant, indupitable, unquestionably genuine alcoholic. This is what normal temporal lobes are supposed to look like, this is a picture of yours. Undeniable, indupitable, etc.


Whenever i ask him is this gonna hurt he pimp-slaps me:





Um, the suns not yella it's chicken?

They are trying to scare me into coming in now, uh huh, and who may i ask will stay home and take care of my website during my absence?

I know it won't disappear, have taken that on faith now, it was hard to accept that every time you open a new window it doesn't make the one in front of you vanish, but it does you know, but really it doesn't, in other words, hi mom, you're late, it's been what, 30 minutes since you last dropped into my field of representation? Pull up a chair, let me tell you all about your bastard child, html.

I'm cleaning houses, eating, sleeping, on tranquilizers, very happy to be free agent who makes up own mind to go in tuesday. Everything is an emergency to medical people- i been thru this drop everything and come in now routine and all it turned out to be was dehydration, starvation, no sleep, illicit drug use and unprotected sex, all fixable, vitamin shots, saline drips, fill backseat of car with chocolate flavored condoms and hit the ground running. i want to stay young, if it kills me, don't you? why not?


To be less than rotten i must mention that 2 hospital helpers came through for me in long run. the first one i had all the problems with, figured it all out and came sat on my bed sayin, ok, so you're a writer, and you lost your ability to type then your speech, no wonder you have been acting so, you must be terrified, this must be a terrifying experience for you.

See? Don't give up, don't disengage, don't shut down and laugh the world away. Keep throwin the line in, for every hundred used tires that come up odds are the next one will be a nibble.

I ate my crackers and slept too, needed understanding, thanks.


when i awoke all the wreckers were back, and no one would let me call my doctor. One of them was my inspiration for what happened in the parking lot, i was laying in the bed thinking i have done everything possible to negotiate with these people, but they keep pushing needles in me, for no reason, hear this, no reason, just here's a spare needle, might as well go stick some woman with it, but he looks so much like Jimmie Dale Gilmore he could be my ticket out of this place.

Needle stuck in arm, rubber stopper on end, plastic tape, um, excuse me where's the drugs? no, we'll just leave that in there just like that in case we need to put some medicine in later. but why? it makes no sense to me. why not just put needle in when the time comes? beautific smile: this is our house, and you are our guest, you have to abide by our rules here.

ok. i am a guest so i think i'll leave. laying in bed drumming up courage when i aint walkin with that whole full-on gait thing happenin. Dr. Fuckhead would never stand for this shit, hey!! He's my role model, here we go, i'm callin you up inside my heart, leaning on you, doc, here we go.

ten minutes later under arrest, 4 cops and they confisciate my slip and purse. i won't i say. am not comfortable with this. no. sit down on bench, i want my doctor.

our doctor will examine you when the time comes, meanwhile do we put you in handcuffs? cry cry cry cry sleep. dream of real jimmie dale gilmore, who would understand, and already does.


wake up, new social worker, took me 3 seconds to wipe the smile off his face. i had to make up a story to gain contact with my psychologist, said, my boyfriend must be worried about my well-being, can i call him, he brings me a phone which looks like heroin to me. oh, do you have a phone-book? sure, no problem.

hello? we are calling my boyfriend but first need to look his name up in the phonebook, but i am presenting well, and this is the ruling archetype in all heads of helpers.


i don't have my glasses and can't read the phonebook, cry cry cry cry how do i get the social worker to get me doctors number when i know it will say psychologist next to his name? busted. thank you god for the deviant mentality, we will work this shit out. now i am asking poor social worker insane questions to see how much and how far to take this, please just take the phonebook to the copier there, and run off a xerox in twice normal size and everything will be all right i promise. he says i don't get this at all.

so we just start calling numbers at random, i say must be typo PhD next to boyfriends name, imagine how hard it must be to keep all that phone book data straight, social worker says is this man treating you, i say, no, fuck no, he and i are pals, he is a good friend, who can't help being a doctor, busted, crying, there goes my fix. now social worker is stickin by me, still calling numbers but he has a cell phone and the connection is broke because YO, CELL PHONES DON'T WORK RIGHT YET, ARE NOTHING BUT TECHNOLOGICAL ABORTIONS BELONG ONLY IN TOILET, we make it to his desk, next thing i hear is Dr. L's voice. I say concentration camp, people everywhere are perpetrating on me, very bad and very systemic, i have no influence you have to get me out, and in 3 years he chooses now to say first stupid thing: i think the hospital is best place for you tonight.

Ten minutes of i beg your pardon, is Dr. L available or is he now hostage too, this is unsupportable, who's side are you on, why don't you and i trade places and i'll sleep at your house, you are ususally first in line to support me, what happened, are you mad at me?

then he explains myself to me and i have to agree i need quiet unstimulated environment to rest. ok, this is not the place, they are iatrogenic mental case makers, doc says, try to handle it....

i go konk in bed try to figure him out, meanwhile he and social worker on phone for 20 minutes and it irritates me. i ask sw what are you guys planning, and he goes all shy and sweet and says well ah, that was mainly him telling me about the proper way of presenting information about you to you.


i told social worker every time he offended me "your psychological problems" was first on the list.

i never thought about it like that he says, i never really saw it like that.

good, you tell the truth, think about my upsets, the reasons i'm givin, just consider them, ok, it matters.

good eye-contact. head nods all around, dignity within reach. i left him website address, said next time you're in the mood for slummin, troublewaits.


thanks, times up for tonight!

love, robin
















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