WHAT I HAD TO DO.
“No, he’s adamant he wants a Falcon,” the state manager said into the receiver, in June, 1989, as he glanced at the employee seated on the other side of his desk. He nodded, “Okay, I’ll tell him. Thanks. Bye.”
“Okay,” began the state manager, looking across at his employee, who had his gaze fixed on the state manager’s nose, “I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news. But firstly, the company, by allowing employees to choose between a Commodore or a Falcon has lost some of its bargaining power. It’s now an 80:20 ratio in favour of Commodores. Some people who were going to get a Falcon opted for a Commodore, which has been a pain in the neck. But here’s the good news. You can have a Falcon. The bad news is, Ford won’t have any Midnight Blue Falcons for six weeks, and the company is not going to sign another lease on your Falcon so that you can wait for a Midnight Blue one. If you were willing to switch to a Commodore, we could get you one next week, but you don’t want to. Ford, however, have a white Falcon with a blue stripe on it, if you’re willing to consider that.”
“Okay,” began the employee, “if it was my own car, I would be prepared to wait. But as the company won’t do that, I would rather have the car I want and compromise on the colour, than have a car I don’t want to have the colour I do want.”
“I understand that.”
The following week, a call came through and the state manager called the employee in. “Are you ready to say good-bye to your current Falcon?”
“I suppose I have to.”
“Okay, you can collect your new one Friday afternoon. I kind of went out on a limb for you, you know. You’re valuable and this company understands why you don’t want to change.”
What was the reason? Well, some of those who switched to Commodores claimed that the Falcon didn’t have enough power. This person preferred the comfort of the Falcon and wasn’t too worried about power.
Okay, I had my COVID19 vaccine. What was important to me wasn’t important to quite a number of people. And what was that? Who gave it to me.
What some people don’t understand or don’t want to understand about me is this. Suppose someone backed into Shigemi and broke her right hand taillight and I had to make an insurance claim and the repairer fitted an aftermarket taillight that I didn’t want and that wasn’t made in Japan, and I rang a Toyota dealer and asked if they could order me a genuine taillight, I could then take Shigemi to the Toyota dealer and say, “Can you fit it, please?” and that would erase what had been done. Whereas with a COVID vaccine, it’s different, because they give you a card to prove it.
When I was 28, I had the misfortune of seeing an arrogant, disgusting urologist, who, when I asked about blood tests, and mentioned my rheumatologist, replied, “But he won’t do the tests that I want.” What a younger, more switched on urologist would have asked was, “Do you know which tests your rheumatologist does?” “Yes, I do.” The urologist may have said, “Yes, some of the tests are the same, and, a) I can get your rheumatologist to email me the results, OR, b) Do you see the rheumatologist as a private patient? Because if you do, I can’t get these done privately, so maybe I can give you a form for that.” When I arrived home, I was so upset after my visit to this urologist that I rang my GP straightaway and asked for an appointment to see someone else. Then, I stripped off and ran the shower water as hot as I could stand it and washed myself (this urologist did a non-consensual prostate exam), then I tore blood test referral and appointment card with the urologist’s name on it into little pieces and threw it in the bin. The next day, I rang the hospital and said that I didn’t want to see that doctor again, and how awful my appointment was. I did get some acknowledgement that this urologist was old school and not a good mix for me, but still.
So, I decided that I wanted to get my COVID19 shot from my GP whom I trust, not to go to a vaccine hub and see a nurse I did not know, and I was vindicated, when I felt a little hot afterwards (partly due to my mask) and I had to wait a little due to minor side effects that my GP attended to.
My father said to me the other night that if I had the choice of seeing a big hairy right-wing male doctor now, or seeing a female doctor later, I would choose to wait, and yes, I would. I had to see a doctor I did NOT like years ago, and I pointed this out to my father, and he replied, “Don’t bring up that.” Okay, I tore up the receipt from the doctor I did not like, along with the repeat prescription and threw those and the medication he prescribed into the bin after I had seen another doctor who got me. (I say, kids can be cruel, BUT, being called a “Nazi” by a fellow school student (without any physical bullying) doesn’t equate to being told that a patient, “Doesn’t want that y — — b —-,” or being asked if you’re the nurse or being told that, “They want an Aussie.” i.e. white) I say, I would rather deal with someone I’m comfortable with and not be traumatised by an experience with someone awful. The only way I could have handled a public clinic would have been if my nephrologist also worked in the public system and she’d said, “Okay, I’ll be there on this day. Come to the nephrology clinic.” And when I’d arrived, the receptionist said, “Okay, I’ll let her know you’re here.” And then, between patients, she’d said, “Okay, give me fifteen minutes, please.” And she’d then come around to the hub with me and said, “Okay, I know this autistic patient very well. I also know he has a history of sexual abuse and is uncomfortable with males (with one exception), so unless you have a clean shaven, extremely gentle male, with an understanding of autistic people and an interest in Japan or UK crime dramas, please give him a female nurse.” “Okay, leave it with us.” And that was respected. But it couldn’t be guaranteed.
So, I was able to do what I needed to and have it done by someone I respect and feel comfortable with.