Emotions Unplugged.

I am sitting at Dona, a cute Mexican restaurant by Kaiser Permanente in Oakland, with my Fresca and Tacos.

15 min ago, I searched my privilege bag looking for something that could make this rather miserable day better. I found a pair of AirPods and a pink discover credit card and bought myself that Fresca. My doctor just canceled an appointment I had scheduled a month ago, only because their own shuttle delayed me by 15min 🤷🏽‍♀️. I had taken a day off from work and commuted for two hours with a broken foot. Not a big enough deal to write an article. Yet, I have so many mixed emotions at this moment that I figured it would be a disservice to myself (and to many others) not to capture them before I go back to my (normal?) routine?

Flashback 2 hours — I left my pretty (it is pretty.) apartment in San Francisco with one foot clad in a walking boot to see a specialized doctor in Oakland, for my TMD issue (it’s a lockjaw thing that showed up uninvited in my life last year). I knew I would get unwanted attention in this walking boot, even from my friends as I limped to the BART (train) station but I was determined to live a ‘normal’ life, not just for my own sanity but for those who struggle with much worse disabilities.

I get to the BART station and wait for 8 minutes for my train as I juggle between google maps and work-related slack threads on my phone. I hop on to the train which unexpectedly halts at 12th Street Oakland for 10ish minutes. I look at my watch. It’s 11.25 am and I still have enough time for my appointment at noon. I reach the Mac Arthur Bart station which is a 15 min walk from Kaiser Permanente, the hospital. Conscious of my broken foot, I take the Kaiser shuttle instead of walking.

(Typically, I prefer to be in control of my time and schedule, and for the love of it, I’d walk any distance within 30min. This time, it was different. I felt that I wasn’t in control.)

As the shuttle runs, I have a plethora of emotions :

Fear

This is the scariest one. I knew my pain was more mental than physical. It horrified me to think about not being able to walk or drive or bear weight forever and yet I chose (yes, it was a choice) a life that needs me to be on my feet at all times, away from loved ones. I loved it. I loved doing every little thing from fixing toilet flushes to lifting furniture to strolling in parks to running around serving food, volunteering, traveling. All of that ceases to exist in a jiffy. I felt terrified at the idea of asking favors- favors that had come to me without even asking when I was near family which I very willingly rejected because who wants to be dependent. I was a cliche independent ambitious person, trying to make it big.

Empathy

A minor foot fracture manages to turn my life upside down. I couldn’t stop thinking about how indifferent I had been to all those who are dealing with this and more every day. My heart instantly went out to anyone struggling physically. I suddenly started seeing how the more privileged of us are blind to reality. Amidst such issues, we sometimes have the audacity to discuss body shapes and sizes. Perhaps, we have our own accessibility issues.

Gratefulness

At that moment, I couldn't stop feeling grateful. I could take a day off from work to visit the hospital, no pay cuts. My health insurance covers my medical bills. I had money to spare for the train rides. I had family checking up on me, worried about my health more than I was.

I wasn’t born in times of war. I have wonderful parents and a family that is indispensable to find. I have people who I can call friends.

How many of us get all of this in one life? #grateful

Sadness

Yet, despite all my privilege, I felt utterly sad, frustrated, and tired.

I do not know if it were the hospital runs, health issues, independence, post covid trauma, or just lack of food (I have finished my Fresca and Tacos, so I know it wasn’t the food).

Loneliness?

This is the most interesting and controversial one. Folks back home spare no chance to discuss how I picked a lonely life, far away from home and how I’m taking zero effort to fix it (aka marry a human). My brain wants to believe that marriage is not the solution. I have great friends here. My colleagues at work are more than reasonable. This country has its own individualistic, go by the protocol ways (which aren’t always inviting) but it’s alright. Why? It offers a culture, life, people, and experiences that are unparalleled anywhere else, and the privileged me really really wanted it. My brain doesn’t however reject the idea of loneliness either. Friends are not going to replace family (another very unappreciated privilege) and attempting to do that might take away what good friendships have to offer.

So, if such tiny issues of life can fuck up my brains so bad, can you blame those who decided to depend on substances to deal with MUCH larger issues in life?

I am very aware that everyone has their own set of problems and in the macro scheme of things and world issues, mine are tiny. As I started to tell myself life ain’t too bad, the driver halts at the first stop and I can see my hospital building in front of me (5min walk). She asks me to wait a while because she can drop me at a closer spot. Before I knew it, we were driving in a different direction. By the time I asked what’s going on, we were on a different route -turns out she forgot to drop me! So, we take another full shuttle circle and I reach the hospital at 12.15 pm. I limp away to room #41, sweating and almost teary from all my piled-up emotions in the shuttle ride. The receptionist tells me that the doctor has left. They waited for 10min. The next appointment would be in 2 months but they could make an exception and get one for me in 1.5.

I waited for a month and you couldn’t wait for 10 min? I left voice mails and messages. You couldn’t even check in with me before calling it off? I was too tired to reason with them.

I said, “Sorry, I don’t want one anymore. Please cancel it.”