looking out, looking in

In an earlier post I referred to “my avatar”. He seems to prefer “my sponsor” or “my patron” and calls me “my scribe”. He evidently does not look out from mirrors, he looks in; I’m the one who looks out and he always sees me doing so. Hence my confusion. It was looking out when I should have restricted my activities to within which brought me to the ward.

Most people seem to be out of step with me. I try to ignore the discrepancies and life would be better for all concerned if they did the same. There was one occasion when I was dispatched to the next aisle of a supermarket to fetch two cans of coconut cream. Within a very short time (I estimate 10 minutes at most), my beloved joined me to ask what was taking so long. I explained that our usual brand was unavailable and I was considering the relative merits of the others. She looked doubtfully at me then askance at the shelves.

Without warning, she grabbed two cans of our usual brand and asked “What are these?” “Damaged goods,” I replied. She appeared to scrutinise them closely. “In what way are they damaged?” “They are dented,” I explained. “I’ve examined them all and they are all dented. I’m not paying for shoddy merchandise.” She recited the first verse of the serenity prayer, put the cans in the trolley and walked off, calling “Coming?” over her shoulder.

It took me a few seconds to understand the relevance of the serenity prayer. I hurried after her and said “But we can change things. If we refuse to buy damaged goods, they’ll take more care.” Silence. That always presents a conundrum. Does silence mean consent, as the lawyers would have us believe? Not, I reflected, if our marital history is any indication. Perhaps she was concerned about her apparent lack of power to change things or her manifest lack of “wisdom to know the difference.”

While I was pondering the complexities of the matter, we arrived at the checkout counter. Since further negotiations seemed to be out of the question, I decided to resort to subterfuge. Whilst the spouse was distracted by a social exchange with someone in a neighbouring queue, I surreptitiously transferred the offending cans to a basket sitting on the counter.

It transpired that the basket was one that I had absentmindedly placed on the counter but forgotten during my preoccupation with shoddy merchandise and the significance of silence. It contained goods which in my view needed to be packed separately from the rest of our shopping. They were duly packed in a separate bag and added to the bill, which I paid in spite of rising feelings of resentment.

I do wish that people would be less accepting of the way things are and learn to make a stand. As I say, however, I like to look on the bright side. I’m very partial to coconut cream, even when it comes out of dented cans.

doing good

A contributor on the forum has pointed out that my fellow residents should have drawn a lesson from my experiments with unwelcome computer sounds. Their ability to handle the stress of repetitious noises is considerably deficient and they really ought to deal with that.

I do try to act responsibly towards others but they will make things difficult for me. I did not intend, exactly, to enliven a group discussion in which I participated, merely to turn the conversation to more interesting subjects. The “sharing” that was going on was making me feel drowsy, which can be very unpleasant when you’re unable to sleep.

Many years ago, one of my brothers informed me about a teaching device. Teaching in some strange philosophy is performed by posing riddles of the kind he asked me. The master (as my brother was in that situation) in no wise provides an answer. The student (as I was) wrestles with the riddle, possibly for the remainder of his or her life. Similar, I dare say, to the teaching methods of Yoda.

The riddle was “Where did > go?” The ‘>’ represents an expulsion of air from the mouth towards one’s right. It seemed a nonsensical riddle to me, which may be why it has stuck in my memory. I have never given up the hope that one day the riddle might be answered. Since the group seemed, in my view, to be wasting time anyway, it occurred to me to “share” the riddle with my companions.

Things become controversial when you least expect it. The incident which led to my residence in the ward is a good example. I’ll deal with that in a later post. It did not occur to me that the riddle “Where did > go?” would cause trouble. I may possibly have oversold the importance of the riddle before “sharing” it, even hinting at existential implications. Perhaps my brother posed the riddle in a one to one situation because he foresaw the very difficulty which arose.

I did, of course, overlook the fact that many of the patients are here because of outspoken, even extreme positions and expressing themselves forcefully on issues which others simply brush off. I was unable to focus effectively on what happened next. The details were too many and too varied to assimilate in a short time.

Several heated discussions broke out amongst members of the suddenly splintered group. The uproar drew other patients as well as several staff members, one of whom foolishly sounded an alarm which brought even more patients to the room and into the debate before help could arrive for the staff.

Fortunately, I like to believe that virtue is its own reward.

my walter mitty life

I must admit to some experiences which are reminiscent of Walter Mitty. In other words, I believe some of my experiences are simply visualised rather than real events. Security measures are a source of confusion. Adopting pseudonyms, for example, I find quite confusing. Somehow, my real name and identity get lost in the morass. Sometimes, when I begin to shave I am surprised not to see my internet avatar looking back at me from the mirror.

I have discarded the use of a second avatar because I believe it was frightening my first avatar. I don’t know whether it’s my real persona or Walter Mitty which keeps getting me into trouble. I’ve recently had difficulties with one persona attempting to censor the other. At least, I suspect that’s what happened. In any event, I debated the issue in my usual double handed way before making exactly the wrong decision.

There have been quite a number of changes in the short period of my residence in the ward. Some definitely relate to myself. For example, a small room has been set aside for my computer (and bookcase) and there’s talk of soundproofing it. I try not to take other changes personally. The few things available as weapons on my arrival now seem to have been secured against use. Chairs have been chained together or to nearby furniture. Fire extinguishers still seem to be available but I have been warned against taking them into the bathroom or anywhere else. Or using them at all except in the case of a fire.

Other changes concern the staff here. Two of the nursing staff have told me that patient counselling services have now been made available to the staff and that I am responsible for the change. I don’t know how I was able to bring about that change. It certainly was never my intention. I must say the staff do not seem to be at all grateful.

One matter of concern was the rate of staff turnover. Evidently, general hospital staff are being co-opted now into “serving time” in this ward. A few troublemakers on the staff attempted to sheet home the responsibility for that to me as well. I assured them that I had not even been consulted about the change.

I seem to be working with more doctors now than initially. And they do seem more distracted. Some are self-medicating during our discussions and occasionally have to leave abruptly. After the last episode, a nurse arrived to administer another unscheduled dose and I was told that the doctor I was interviewing was now on sick leave.

The fiscal implications of the changes are quite worrying. I’ve been asked how I would feel about a “special isolation” ward for “special cases such as [mine].” I do wish they would remember that I’m not a patient here.

introduction

As I have mentioned in the “about this diary” page, this blog has been inspired, nay, made necessary by reading various threads in a board on the PCLinuxOS forum. My already complicated life has become even more so as an indirect result of one thread in particular ( Giant Camel Spiders in Iraq!!! ). I hope to find some relief from the tension and excitement by recounting my experiences here.

The latest experience arose from a thread suggesting techniques for creating computer annoyances ( Annoy your coworkers, Linux style ). As a keen student (and, indeed, instructor to the ignorant and unwilling) in matters pertaining to human psychology, I embarked on an experiment involving the production of random beeps and other unwelcome sounds by my computer. I intended simply to test the effects on myself, quite forgetting in my enthusiasm that I am currently a resident of a secure hospital ward.

(Note: the hospital itself is not secure but I am well pleased with the security arrangements pertaining to the ward, where, as I’ve indicated elsewhere, I reside purely because of my participation in a medical research programme.)

In very little time, I was surrounded by the other residents of the ward, both patients and staff. I was taken aback by the ferocity of the staff’s antagonism towards me but then, as a researcher, I probably have a more detached view of things than they do. The patients were also (unduly, I thought) aggressive but, to be fair, seemed more open-minded. I detected some fascination, curiosity, a willingness to learn and a perverse pleasure in the disruption unwittingly being caused (yet again) by yours truly.

To my alarm, a staff member ordered me to “turn that d*! thing off before I pull the plug”. I did think of explaining the possible adverse effects of either alternative when it occurred to me that she was not in a very receptive mood. Thinking quickly (as I’ve learnt to do), I said “I’ll switch off the sound.” “And shut it down” shouted another staff member. I deemed it prudent to comply even though I felt strangely compelled to continue my experiments, particularly in the light of the spectacular results.

During the ensuing negotiations (well, pride dictates that I describe the dialogue that way), I was required to ingest an unscheduled (additional) dose of some medication I’ve been testing as part of the research programme before being allowed to re-start my computer.

Computer privileges are most unusual in the ward and I attribute my fortunate position to my status as a research assistant. It may have something to do also with the reactions of both patients and staff to my participation in regular ward activities. The threat on this occasion of such privileges being removed added to the urgency of the need for compliance on my part.

I am somewhat flattered by the attention I receive in spite of the indignities to which I am subjected. I’m still perturbed by the tendency of the nursing staff to treat me as a patient but I’ve decided to humour them because they seem to become (more) agitated when I try to explain my position as a research assistant.

Certain positive results of the incident are

1. Proof that the Linux command line can be a useful tool when one is provided with clear, specific and unambiguous instructions, particularly when one is able to copy and paste the code required
2. Yet another example of the PCLinuxOS forum, as well as providing stimulating ideas and excitement, being extraordinarily helpful in technical matters
3. A demonstration, albeit unintentional, of the low tolerance of humans generally to random repetitions of meaningless and inharmonious noises.

I prefer to look on the bright side and maintain an optimistic outlook in spite of the difficulties that attend me.