and this was one of the good days

[rm]

Today was one of the good days, and yet I wound up in the bathroom at work. In tears. Twice. It was the first time I'd cried at the office since Torchwood: Children of Earth aired, and yes, I feel like a jackass for writing that sentence despite the fact that I'm always lecturing you all about the importance of story.

About ten minutes before the Prop 8 decision came down, I got a call from the New York City Fire Department that began with them assuring me this was not an emergency. When they told me what it was about, it felt like an emergency pretty fast.

You see, the NYFD was responsible for the ambulance that brought me to the hospital from the doctor's office when I had my kidney stone incident just before Bristol, and they were now trying to process my claim with my insurance company. There was just one problem: the insurance company was telling them my policy expired in 2003.

So there I am, standing in the hallway of the office suite, my head swimming with questions on the formal address of vampires and the Prop 8 decision anticipation and suddenly the insurance I pay a lot of money for doesn't exist.

The NYFD verifies my company, policy number, name, group number and everything else I can think of. Yeah. They've got everything, and I'm uninsured.

"Excuse me," I said abruptly before hanging up, "I need to go talk to HR."

We don't really have HR. We have a guy that sits about a foot away from me and runs interference with the accountant's office.

"Dude, call the accountant, right now," I said, after offering a brief explanation.

"Send me an email with all the information."

"That is all the information! My policy doesn't exist. Fine, I'll call the insurance company."

So I call the insurance company, who also tell me, that yes, my policy expired in 2003.

"Look again."

"Oh, here it is!"

Apparently, if you have an insurance policy with this company that gets closed because you switch jobs or whatever, that one will always come up first, as opposed to the active one. Meaning that when providers submit your insurance information for payment, the first thing the system kicks out is that you don't have any, and then you get freaky phone calls from the NYFD at a key moment of deeply personal political history.

By the time I got off the phone with the insurance company, the NYFD had called me back and left a message to say they had figured it out on their own, and the Prop 8 results had been announced. And me? My adrenalin was all fucking up over the insurance and I'd missed my moment to celebrate.

Cue crying moment #1. This first time, I didn't even bother with the bathroom. I read a lot of Twitter, tried to get excited, get happy, and do the obligatory LJ post on the odd chance I'm a primary news source for anyone (please let that not be true).

Then, amidst the huzzahs! and the discussion of what happens next, someone came into my Prop 8 post to explain why judges doing what judges are supposed to do in the US system of justice was a constitutional travesty. I was insulted, lectured and condescended to until I banned the individual, at which point I did walk, quite briskly, to the bathroom to cry.

Standing there in the stall, hands over my face sobbing because of the stupid insurance debacle and the stupid LJ drama and the stupid elevators that never work in my office building and the stupid inconsiderateness of the people we share an office suite with, all I could think of, suddenly, was last damn July and Children of Earth, because here I was again, sobbing over something that was a central event in my social circle that no one else in the building gave a crap about, or maybe, hadn't even heard of.

And if I wasn't already in a cascade of tears, well, that was it.

The worst thing about mourning for people is that they never see you do it.

The worst thing about fictional characters isn't that they'll never console you by holding your hand, but that you can never console them by holding theirs.

The worst things about these fundamental political events when you're a minority is that you're surrounded by people who don't notice, don't give a crap, or think it's a great opportunity to ignore that you're real and use it to exercise their rhetorical and devil's advocacy skills.

All of it was, yet the fuck again, like the realization I kept having in fencing over and over again, that when you fight, you fight alone. No matter who's standing right there next to you.

Back at my desk, I started looking at the news articles, at the people celebrating, at the discussion of what would happen next, and I had that other moment of realization in this gay rights thing that is always total shit.

You know the one, the one where I stop being grateful for the fact that my humanity, while affirmed this go around, is fundamentally in question because My god, we are actually having this conversation.

And to add to that list of worsts a few lines back: there is nothing worse when you suddenly have to be grateful for something you were always supposed to have known or have had.

So, yeah, bathroom crying jag #2, and then I was just done. I couldn't do the office anymore and took off, taking a cab because I couldn't be on the subway with people who didn't know or wouldn't care or might, if I was so stupid as to try to talk to them, congratulate me on having my humanity affirmed, and then I'd start crying and talking about stories or something and it would just be embarrassing.

So I took a cab.

And called my mother.

And carefully broached Prop 8, because I couldn't avoid it. I have no self-control -- it's a feature of those homosexuals, don't you know? And sometimes I wonder if storytelling is a necessary congenital defect of our kind.

My mom listened, and said, "Huh."

I hated to do this to her, to hear it wash over her that the good news can feel like bad news. But instead of giving me platitudes or changing the topic, she got it. She really got it. And was quietly awed by the weight of it. I never ever wanted to do anything that would require my mother to be an impressive person on my behalf, not that I am not grateful, because I am.

So today was one of the good days. I am actually insured. A judge did the right thing with eloquence and intellectual rigor. My mother listened to me and saw me.

And nobody real died.

But I keep crying. And I keep saying, so softly, "I remember you," meaning all these people who fight, all these communities that are fading in the face of normativity and youth and the forgetfulness of those who have never known the things I have seen, many of them as a child, when I should not have had to see.

My tattoo is obscured today under a navy blue racer-back tank, and it's like holding the hand of made-up strangers when the plane takes off.

It's like sitting across from the woman on the train hugging The New York Times to her chest and sobbing the morning after the 2004 presidential election.

And it's like fencing, when everyone else was busy pretending we weren't all in the same war.

Happy should never have to be this way.

And one day, maybe, maybe maybe maybe, at least for my people, it won't be.

Comments

[teleens-journal.livejournal.com]

I'm truly sorry. I took a look at the thread to which you referred, then was tempted to actually go and comment on the person in question's journal, except - surprise! They are screening all comments on their 'reaction to being banned' post.

Plus, I realized that arguing with someone like that is like swimming in quicksand. I'm just sorry that you had to deal with that on today of all days. The thing that really makes me go 'huh?' is wondering why they were reading your journal in the first place.

Also, a court decided on Roe vs. Wade. Just sayin' - sometimes the majority will vote to burn the minority at the stake and it's up to the courts to stand up for the individual.

I'm sorry that your good day had to be tainted in this way, :(.

*hugs*

[rm.livejournal.com]

I hadn't gone to look. Lovely to know they wrote a post about it. No doubt they are misusing the word "censorship" in it.

[kshandra]

I'll hold your hand. Any time you need me to.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there appears to be something in my eyes....

[zare-k.livejournal.com]

Apparently, if you have an insurance policy with this company that gets closed because you switch jobs or whatever, that one will always come up first, as opposed to the active one.

And isn't that just so convenient for the insurance company? This happened to me with my dental insurance policy. One wonders if it isn't an industry-wide practice.

[rm.livejournal.com]

I suspect, strongly, that it is. The woman on the phone was like "Well, that's just how we do it. It's not a mistake."

[itcamefromjapan.livejournal.com]

The worst things about these fundamental political events when you're a minority is that you're surrounded by people who don't notice, don't give a crap, or think it's a great opportunity to ignore that you're real and use it to exercise their rhetorical and devil's advocacy skills.

In November 2008, I was a freshman in college. I got no sleep on election night because I stayed up to follow the Prop 8 returns. I was a mess the next morning; I'd been crying for hours, but I forced myself to go to class anyway (which was impressive, because, uh, I wasn't going to class much that semester).

Afterward, one of my classmates came up to me and asked if I was okay. We chatted about the election for a few minutes. I agreed that I was glad that Obama had won, "but I'm pretty upset that Prop 8 is passing."

"Which one is that again?" he asked.

I explained what Prop 8 was and he went, "Oh yeah...haha, that sucks," and wandered away.

And of course, it wasn't the first time that I'd been amongst people oblivious to something so important to me, but it's maybe the first time I remember being so jarred by it, and thinking, I hate that this doesn't have to matter to you. It was a horribly lonely moment.

Anyway, you wrote this so beautifully, as always, and I want to hug you, and I love that your mother got it, because wow.

[eumelia.livejournal.com]

The whole day sounds like an ordeal, which yeah, often means it was a good day.

Not much else to say - I find the fact that queer people all over the world need to rely on activist Judges quite horrendous, but am very happy they exist. I find the lack of basic health care you (don't) receive a crime against humanity, but the US is a strange place, I suppose.

*hugs* I'd cry with you.

[marcmagus]

s/activist Judges/judges who do their fucking jobs/

[gwyd.livejournal.com]

It sounds like yopu deserved a good cry, even two. hell, I'm crying a little for you right now. what a roller coaster of a day, emotionally. i'm not a hugger, but I'd totally offer you one.

[feyandstrange.livejournal.com]

there is nothing worse when you suddenly have to be grateful for something you were always supposed to have known or have had.

This, all of this, so much that I got up to reply to this despite having no brain to spare. Equality should be a right, not a fight. I shouldn't have to start a lawsuit to be treated like any other human being, because I'm female or queer or in a wheelchair or because some fucker doesn't like me. And I should not have to be FUCKING grateful.

[glinda-w.livejournal.com]

And to add to that list of worsts a few lines back: there is nothing worse when you suddenly have to be grateful for something you were always supposed to have known or have had.

Yeah. And also ouch.

[shadowvalkyrie.livejournal.com]

*hugs* Sometimes good and bad doesn't matter, and it's all just emotion that gets too much and spills over. It feels utterly miserable, but in hindsight, it's usually cathartic. *hugs more*

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

What does make me happy is that I think the judge said pretty much the same thing.

[ayoub.livejournal.com]

A beautiful day...

I feel tears at reading this...

[austengirl.livejournal.com]

I'm sitting here reading your heartache and I wish I could give you a hug. Or just sit with you. I know what it's like to celebrate something important alone, at least I can share in it with friends over FB, Twitter etc.

I'm glad your mom got it. And I hope today is less of an emotional rollercoaster.

[missysedai.livejournal.com]

You know the one, the one where I stop being grateful for the fact that my humanity, while affirmed this go around, is fundamentally in question because My god, we are actually having this conversation.

This is more or less the conversation I had with Elder Monster last night, whilst bringing him home from work for a couple days. (He is away for the summer, at his very first job ever, working at Cedar Point.) It's an hour and a half drive each way, so we had plenty of time to talk about the ruling, and at one point, in exasperation over the way his co-workers were responding to the news, he snapped "Jesus Christ, Mother, I cannot BELIEVE that this conversation still needs to be had with people! The fuck?"

Elder Monster came out to us as bi a few years ago. And for us, it was No Big Thang. Hell, for

him

, it was No Big Thang. It was a data point, something about him he figured we should probably be apprised of at some point. We've always taught the Monsters "Be who you are." But current law doesn't want Elder Monster to be who he is. It wants to relegate him to the status of Other. Something not quite human, not quite a full citizen. Something that should be

grateful

when someone sees fit to reaffirm his basic humanity.

It's infuriating and disgusting and wrong that this conversation still needs to be had, and that good news can still feel so bad, because really, why the ever-loving-fuck should we have to have this conversation

ever

, let alone in this modern age?

[umadoshi.livejournal.com]

This is a heartbreaking and beautiful post.

[bare-bear.livejournal.com]

I don't often comment on here, mostly because as a straight white Canadian woman whose life is consumed by her MSc thesis, I often don't feel like I'm informed enough about theses American issues, so I don't have the right to go ignorantly babbling on your journal.

Also, I'm not good with words. I've re-written this 9 times and it still sounds dumb. And basically, what I'm trying to say can all be summed up in a hug, so *hugs*.

[brilliant-snark.livejournal.com]

Your insurance company needs to update that stupidity. Wow.

You're right, happy shouldn't have to be this way.

At work, it came up, but only in the sense of coworkers seeing the newsfeed on the breakroom tv and shrugging and going "that's cool...". Work was a weird place for me anyway yesterday, but I was very relieved to get to my dance instructors house last night and mention the news and have the whole troupe hug and be glad of it and discuss why it shouldn't even be a thing and why the judge's words were awesomesauce...

Thank you for sharing your feelings with us...

[dabhug.livejournal.com]

there is nothing worse when you suddenly have to be grateful for something you were always supposed to have known or have had.

I'm crying with you. Hugs to you.

[ravenskye8.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

Cause you can never have too many...


More intelligent discourse later.

[kyburg.livejournal.com]

*takes a deep breath* Okay, I gave myself the night to sleep on whether or not I should say anything about this. And then looked - nope, nobody weighed in with something I would only be adding a 'me too!' as well.

Okay.

First off, I am so deeply sorry about yesterday. This hit you hard, much harder than it would have hit me and maybe that's a good thing because I no longer really notice when people ignore my humanity anymore. I, um, expect it. Wrap you head around that.

I wish I had tears left - somewhere along the way, I found I needed the spunk they cost me to stay on my feet. And I am straight, white, college-educated and employed full time, healthy as a horse. Oh, and married. I mean, what do I have to worry about?

Everything, because at some point - I've always been something people didn't want, for some reason. I watch attempts to discriminate, steal and remove with great interest, because it's never far from affecting me. It'll be something - it always is. You just never hear about it.

I am so sorry this hurts you still. And so deeply. But I don't recommend my method to deal with it.

About the insurance. Take another deep breath. No, please. Ready?

After Cliff was diagnosed as having multiple strokes, survived a massive MI and ended up living with his stay-at-home mother in Lake Arrowhead while I kept working in Ontario, 60 miles away (because he wasn't stable on the anti-seizure medications and couldn't safely be left alone), his employer made the difficult decision to terminate him disabled. And when they notified us of this change, they advised us we had 90 days to decide whether to continue COBRA or not.

Within that period, Cliff had a massive insulin reaction in his sleep that triggered another heart attack and sent him into epileptic status - and possibly another stroke, we never checked, but yeah - that left him entirely on full life support once the paramedics got there. Me? 60 miles away. I was advised that they were going to transport him from the little community hospital he had been taken to to Loma Linda Medical Center (which is the biggest dog on the block) as soon as they could arrange it. The weather would not allow a life flight. They were going to put together a team and transport by ambulance, and that took time.

They advised me that we should leave him on life support for six or nine weeks before deciding what the 'next step should be.' Me, I heard insulin reaction and knew from previous experience they didn't know my husband very well. When he finally arrived by ambulance, I met them in the parking lot outside the ER entrance. There's nothing like seeing someone completely under - or supposedly under - on a vent, hearing your voice and then trying like hell to wake up to reassure you that yes, this isn't it. Not today. He'd aspirated blood from biting his tongue, so he had pneumonia - on top of everything else. It was nasty - and if his mother had respected his DNR wishes? That *would* have been it - but he lived for two more years after that.

That awful enough?

While they are settling him in, the unit secretary called me out of the room to let me know patient accounting needed to see me. Not call me. SEE me.

(cont'd)

[kyburg.livejournal.com]

Okay. I go downstairs to a cubicle farm where I am sat down at a desk and told that we have no coverage. None. That 90 days to decide on COBRA? Well, it was 90 days to decide if we wanted to exercise our rights to take it - not that we would actually HAVE coverage for 90 more days. The conversation I had with his former employer was as degrading and abasing as you can think up. The fact he had been discharged disabled as part of a workmans comp case probably is what saved our bacon. (Oh, and I had retained a lawyer to manage that, BTW.) But you don't think about that when someone is on total life support in an ICU where he's on a vent, on Versed which reduces him to a one to one ratio in nursing care. There's not much more expensive care, to be blunt.

I didn't want to think about what would happen to him if they discharged him to the country facility in San Bernardino, which they would have been forced to do if we didn't come up with something to pay for all this.

No, I never cried.

I don't believe anyone involved with the process acted with any ill will. These are the rules, this is what happened and yeah. This is what was negotiated and understood. The Fair is in Pomona in August.

I don't know how you felt. I DO know how I felt.

Convinced I'm only human enough to matter when it's convenient and all the bills are paid? Right. You are NOT alone.

Because that's how everyone was measured. I wasn't special, singular or inceptional. It's important to retain the ability to forgive, my friend. There lies your sanity.

Grateful. No, goddammit. I worked too damn hard for it. Relieved, yes. Thank you for helping. But no - I worked for this, hard. This is also what was negotiated and agreed upon.

That's why it's relief when I hear about yesterday. Grateful? Okay. I'm glad the system worked the way I understood it should. Thank you for all your hard work. There. I said it.

[darthhellokitty.livejournal.com]

I understand the tears, completely. But you know that.

I left work early yesterday 'cause I was sick, and I heard the news on NPR, and I did kind of a feeble "woo hoo!!!" in my car. :-)

So happy about it. I like being married, so I want EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO to get to do it, too. It's like sharing a fandom.

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

And now today we got Elena Kagan and Mexico upholding Mexico City's gay marriage law.

[sparkindarkness.livejournal.com]

And to add to that list of worsts a few lines back: there is nothing worse when you suddenly have to be grateful for something you were always supposed to have known or have had.

Amen beyond words


*hugs* if you want them

[fitfool.livejournal.com]

Ugh. Just this morning I'd been talking with a friend about how if we were gay, we'd hightail it to NYC or San Francisco. I'm sorry that even in NYC it still feels like a lonely battle.