So, a while back a psychologist friend quoted to me a study which basically proved that most of the time, when a woman notices a man looking at her, she feels self-conscious, whereas when a man notices a female looking at him, he concludes, "she wants my body."
Yes, ladies, when you look at some guy, thinking, "Should I tell him he has mustard stains on his face?" he probably thinks you are checking him out.
My psychologist friend (again, sorry I don't have any quotes for this information) said that's probably the reason that men often have a higher level of self-confidence than women do.
Certainly, I could see how thinking "everyone is judging me" is bad for self-confidence, whereas thinking "everyone wants my body" could be good for self-confidence.
This concept came back to me recently when I broke my foot, and was on crutches. Suddenly everywhere I went, people were staring at me, and it made me very self-conscious. I started to feel judged and defensive. So I thought back to the psychologist, and decided instead to interpret each stare as, "he/she/they want my body". (To be truly egalitarian, I didn't limit it to just the opposite sex)
Yes indeed, this IS a morale booster! Since all the interaction happens inside your head, it's way more fun to choose "they want my body" over "they are staring because I'm disabled."
Sometimes the results are flattering (hot young guy staring at the cast on my foot - oh yeah, he wants me). Sometimes the results are disturbing (6 year old boy staring at me open-mouthed). Sometimes the results are just hilariously inappropriate (a trio of suburban moms pushing baby carriages all look at me as I struggle with a set of stairs).
I've decided to adopt this new, self-confident worldview whenever I start to feel self-conscious about my visible limitations. And I'd encourage anyone who has a visible disability to try this perspective out for a week and see how it feel.
Those stares at your wheelchair.....oh yeah, they want a sweet ride like that!
The long looks at your cane and braces...... Pure Lust!
Feeling self-conscious at the gym because you're not one of the low-body-fat elite? ..... Tell yourself they all want your body, and get on that treadmill and flaunt it!
And the way that people pointedly turn away or refuse to make eye contact due to your impairments? ..... it's jealousy! They can't face your sexiness!
Try it out, and see if it changes your mood.
Showing posts with label Sick Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sick Humor. Show all posts
Emotional Kung Fu: the quick jab
Random New Age Jerk: "You have an illness because you are harboring negative thoughts, because you have anger or resentment. The mind is more powerful than any medication. Your body and immune system are perfectly capable of fighting off illness if you think positive thoughts. But if you can't overcome an illness it's because you are hanging on to the illness with negative thoughts."
Me: "Please go find some broken-hearted parents who suddenly lost their infant to S.I.D.S. and tell them that their precious baby was filled with negativity, anger and resentment, and that's why their little angel succumbed to S.I.D.S. when other parents get to experience the joys of holding their babies and watching them grow up. It will sure be a comfort to them to realize that it was their little baby's own negativity that resulted in her death."
If you don't have to deal with New Age Jackasses who try this routine, consider yourself lucky. (I've heard other patients complain about having to deal with Christian Jackasses who have a variant of this same attack, "If you really believed in Jesus, this wouldn't happen to you." It just shows that if someone wants to be a jerk, they will find some way to manipulate any set of universal beliefs to support their behavior.)
Here a person who is healthy, rather than counting their blessings and reaching out to the afflicted, instead congratulates themselves, and immediately judges that they are a better, more spiritual person and you are not, because they are healthy and you are not.
(Personally, I find this accusation of negativity REALLY irksome because I make a concerted effort every day to be pleasant and encouraging to the people I encounter, and not let the pain make me irritable towards others. It doesn't make the pain any less for me, but I figure just cuz I feel miserable is no reason anyone else should.)
This type of attack does nothing to help an ill person relieve the stress in their lives that could be making symptoms worse, nor does it help an ill person to practice positive thinking to overcome depression. Rather it creates separation, a New Age more-spiritual-than-thou pride, and snap judgments.
It's amazing what the "people who think positive don't get sick - people who are harboring negative thoughts succumb to disease" criteria tells you about the world.
People in Africa and Latin America are dying of A.I.D.S. at a devastating rate, and of a number of infections and diseases that are rare or unknown in the industrial Western world. So, apparently according to the New Age Jackass, those dark-skinned people are just really negative compared to us whiteys(?!?!) Who else is "negative"? I guess little kids with leukemia are "negative", because the illness got to them. Ted Bundy the serial killer was a healthy, athletic young man (until his untimely execution), so I guess he didn't have any anger, hostility or resentment as he butchered his victims. I'm sure you can add to this list yourself.....
If you have been one of these New Age Jackasses at times yourself, just know that telling someone to "be positive" and blaming them for the illness, does nothing to make them feel more positive. If you want someone to be more cheerful, then tell them a joke that makes them laugh, do something generous to put a smile on their face, or ... maybe.... even listen to their complaints without interrupting (shocker!) because everyone runs out of things to complain about eventually and even the very miserable eventually will get bored with complaining and want to talk about something cheerful.
Meanwhile, here's the Emotional Kung Fu move of the day...
The "quick jab" is a boxing move that is very useful to get someone to back away a little when they are attacking you. Perfect for this type of attack.
"Yeah, I do have anger and resentment built up, but the only anger and resentment I have is that I have to continually deal with jackasses like you!"
Me: "Please go find some broken-hearted parents who suddenly lost their infant to S.I.D.S. and tell them that their precious baby was filled with negativity, anger and resentment, and that's why their little angel succumbed to S.I.D.S. when other parents get to experience the joys of holding their babies and watching them grow up. It will sure be a comfort to them to realize that it was their little baby's own negativity that resulted in her death."
If you don't have to deal with New Age Jackasses who try this routine, consider yourself lucky. (I've heard other patients complain about having to deal with Christian Jackasses who have a variant of this same attack, "If you really believed in Jesus, this wouldn't happen to you." It just shows that if someone wants to be a jerk, they will find some way to manipulate any set of universal beliefs to support their behavior.)
Here a person who is healthy, rather than counting their blessings and reaching out to the afflicted, instead congratulates themselves, and immediately judges that they are a better, more spiritual person and you are not, because they are healthy and you are not.
(Personally, I find this accusation of negativity REALLY irksome because I make a concerted effort every day to be pleasant and encouraging to the people I encounter, and not let the pain make me irritable towards others. It doesn't make the pain any less for me, but I figure just cuz I feel miserable is no reason anyone else should.)
This type of attack does nothing to help an ill person relieve the stress in their lives that could be making symptoms worse, nor does it help an ill person to practice positive thinking to overcome depression. Rather it creates separation, a New Age more-spiritual-than-thou pride, and snap judgments.
It's amazing what the "people who think positive don't get sick - people who are harboring negative thoughts succumb to disease" criteria tells you about the world.
People in Africa and Latin America are dying of A.I.D.S. at a devastating rate, and of a number of infections and diseases that are rare or unknown in the industrial Western world. So, apparently according to the New Age Jackass, those dark-skinned people are just really negative compared to us whiteys(?!?!) Who else is "negative"? I guess little kids with leukemia are "negative", because the illness got to them. Ted Bundy the serial killer was a healthy, athletic young man (until his untimely execution), so I guess he didn't have any anger, hostility or resentment as he butchered his victims. I'm sure you can add to this list yourself.....
If you have been one of these New Age Jackasses at times yourself, just know that telling someone to "be positive" and blaming them for the illness, does nothing to make them feel more positive. If you want someone to be more cheerful, then tell them a joke that makes them laugh, do something generous to put a smile on their face, or ... maybe.... even listen to their complaints without interrupting (shocker!) because everyone runs out of things to complain about eventually and even the very miserable eventually will get bored with complaining and want to talk about something cheerful.
Meanwhile, here's the Emotional Kung Fu move of the day...
The "quick jab" is a boxing move that is very useful to get someone to back away a little when they are attacking you. Perfect for this type of attack.
"Yeah, I do have anger and resentment built up, but the only anger and resentment I have is that I have to continually deal with jackasses like you!"
Side Effect: Weight Gain
The doctor smiles at me comfortingly.
"It's a very safe drug. The only side effect you might experience is weight gain."
Weight gain?! Now the doctor's smile just looks to me like a mocking idiotic grin.
"Wait, what about other options? Don't you have any drugs that carry a risk of brain aneurysm instead of weight gain? I'd take that! What about birth defects? Cancer? Come on, work with me here." Doc just chuckles at me. No such luck.
Damn FDA! Hey to a woman, weight gain IS a serious side effect. Every few months I get a new drug and along with it, another 15lbs to carry around.
When people say, "You don't look sick" - to me, I do look sick, because all that weight happened from various effects of the illness. And then combine that with being too sick to get out of bed many days - that really does a number on your metabolism. It's the law of nature - go into hibernation, come out with a body shaped like a grizzly bear.
For all of us who have been through this cycle with an invisible illness, we now have a new level of stigma. With fatigue, to the unkind world we look "LAZY." Now due to the drug effects, we look "FAT." Fat and lazy - just about the worst possible things to be in image-conscious, modern, workaholic American society.
Isn't it absurd that at a time when I am in pain, I can't work, my life is passing away before my eyes, that what I am really concerned about is weight gain? It just shows how crazy-making it is to be a female living in 21st century America.
Yeah I'd like to believe that it's just me, being a neurotic mess, but I'm actually less weight-obsessed than most women I know. I keep hearing the complaints about weight gain from women with so much to be proud of.
Many years ago in college, I went out to lunch with a woman who had just returned from a year of volunteer work in war-torn Bosnia, sheltering refugees and providing rape crisis services. She described a life of constant near-death experiences, dodging bullets and threats. With grace and humility, she related how she witnessed and comforted the victims of rape and torture. I was absolutely awestruck by her. BTW she was just drop-dead gorgeous in an old-fashioned way, voluptuous figure, cascading blonde curls, long lashes, etc. I asked her how she was dealing with returning home to "normal" life.
She said, "Well, I'm so ashamed, I have gained 20 lbs and I just feel like a loser for being so fat and not having control over myself."
Geez, shows where priorities are, huh? It doesn't matter if you are a cross between MacGyver and Mother Teresa, if you are overweight you are a loser?!
Meanwhile a male friend relates this story to me: A woman he works with has returned from a mission to Saharan Africa with a horrible wasting disease. She is under medical care. Her eyeballs are all yellow and her skin is wan. But she's thrilled that "now she can wear all those designer clothes she couldn't fit into before, and she (in her own words), thinks she looks great!"
It's crazy. I tell myself it's crazy, and I still worry about it.
Meanwhile I have this fantasy....
I'm back at the doctor's. He looks at me seriously and says, "Well we have this new experimental drug for chronic pain. It's just that it carries some risk of side effects. I have to warn you about this. You will lose 20lbs and all the hair in your legs will fall out."
I sigh dramatically. "Well doc, I'll take this new drug. As for the side effects.... well I guess I'll just be brave and deal with them."
"It's a very safe drug. The only side effect you might experience is weight gain."
Weight gain?! Now the doctor's smile just looks to me like a mocking idiotic grin.
"Wait, what about other options? Don't you have any drugs that carry a risk of brain aneurysm instead of weight gain? I'd take that! What about birth defects? Cancer? Come on, work with me here." Doc just chuckles at me. No such luck.
Damn FDA! Hey to a woman, weight gain IS a serious side effect. Every few months I get a new drug and along with it, another 15lbs to carry around.
When people say, "You don't look sick" - to me, I do look sick, because all that weight happened from various effects of the illness. And then combine that with being too sick to get out of bed many days - that really does a number on your metabolism. It's the law of nature - go into hibernation, come out with a body shaped like a grizzly bear.
For all of us who have been through this cycle with an invisible illness, we now have a new level of stigma. With fatigue, to the unkind world we look "LAZY." Now due to the drug effects, we look "FAT." Fat and lazy - just about the worst possible things to be in image-conscious, modern, workaholic American society.
Isn't it absurd that at a time when I am in pain, I can't work, my life is passing away before my eyes, that what I am really concerned about is weight gain? It just shows how crazy-making it is to be a female living in 21st century America.
Yeah I'd like to believe that it's just me, being a neurotic mess, but I'm actually less weight-obsessed than most women I know. I keep hearing the complaints about weight gain from women with so much to be proud of.
Many years ago in college, I went out to lunch with a woman who had just returned from a year of volunteer work in war-torn Bosnia, sheltering refugees and providing rape crisis services. She described a life of constant near-death experiences, dodging bullets and threats. With grace and humility, she related how she witnessed and comforted the victims of rape and torture. I was absolutely awestruck by her. BTW she was just drop-dead gorgeous in an old-fashioned way, voluptuous figure, cascading blonde curls, long lashes, etc. I asked her how she was dealing with returning home to "normal" life.
She said, "Well, I'm so ashamed, I have gained 20 lbs and I just feel like a loser for being so fat and not having control over myself."
Geez, shows where priorities are, huh? It doesn't matter if you are a cross between MacGyver and Mother Teresa, if you are overweight you are a loser?!
Meanwhile a male friend relates this story to me: A woman he works with has returned from a mission to Saharan Africa with a horrible wasting disease. She is under medical care. Her eyeballs are all yellow and her skin is wan. But she's thrilled that "now she can wear all those designer clothes she couldn't fit into before, and she (in her own words), thinks she looks great!"
It's crazy. I tell myself it's crazy, and I still worry about it.
Meanwhile I have this fantasy....
I'm back at the doctor's. He looks at me seriously and says, "Well we have this new experimental drug for chronic pain. It's just that it carries some risk of side effects. I have to warn you about this. You will lose 20lbs and all the hair in your legs will fall out."
I sigh dramatically. "Well doc, I'll take this new drug. As for the side effects.... well I guess I'll just be brave and deal with them."
The "Real" Purpose of Medical Testing
3 days ago I underwent a sleep study and a daytime sleepiness study, as one more medical test to better figure out what medications and treatments I should pursue.
Here is how this test goes:
I report to the Sleep Center, where electrodes and wires are placed all over my head, face and body, attached to a portable unit that I must carry with me at all times. It takes about 35 minutes for the attendant to attach all of the electrodes with a heavy glue.
I sit and read, watch TV from a chair. Then at 10:30, I am ordered to lie down in bed, lights out. The camera zooms in on me, and a voice over an intercom tells me which way to move. Very sci-fi. Then, "go to sleep."
Sleep isn't easy because the air conditioner is broken and I keep waking up in a sweat. Mercifully the attendants bring in a fan. Somehow I do get to sleep. Then I'm woken up again for some procedure. Back to sleep. And just when it's restful, then at 5:45, I am awoken, bright lights on, and must immediately get out of bed.
I'm tired. But now I have to somehow stay awake. I have brought books to read, there's a TV. All I can think about is sleep.... The camera follows me to make sure that I am awake. As soon as I start to slouch and lie down, or my eyes start to close, desperate for a little rest, then someone runs into the room and makes me get up and stay awake. Then, after a few excruciating hours, where all I can think about is rest, there is a "nap test." I get to go to bed, lights off, lie down..... ahhhhhhh. It feels so good, I'm asleep in minutes. And just as rest has come over me, the bright lights snap on, people come in the room, and I'm ordered out of bed immediately and have to stay awake again.
All day long this cycle repeats -- forced to stay awake, then allowed to sleep just long enough to feel it's sweetness come over me, then dragged out of bed again and forced to stay awake. All I can think of is the next nap time and how many moments of sleep I can steal before they come for me.
Sure, the accommodations are very comfortable and quiet, and the food is good, but I can't help feeling like I'm in a prison torture chamber. Sleep deprivation and disruption of circadian rhythms is a time-honored torture method for breaking down prisoners. Every time the cheerful orderlies burst in to get me out of bed, every time I hear the camera zoom in on me to see if I'm asleep, I am filled with an irrational, involuntary, desperate desire to bargain with them, to confess. What do they want from me? They can have it! I'm ready to talk! If I tell them what they want to know, will it do any good? Will they actually let me sleep?!
Which brings me to look back on all the torturous medical tests I have undergone in the past 3 years. Each level of testing seems more excruciating and humiliating. And I think this is the real purpose of the design of these medical tests -- to test just how desperate the patient.
Because anyone who wasn't at the end of their rope, and willing to do anything to get well, would not put up with this, but just say, "Forget it, this isn't worth it," and refuse to comply. I know if anyone had suggested most of these tests 7 years ago, I probably would have just said, "Nah, I'll live with this illness."
I imagine all the doctors gathered in a room behind some one way glass.
"She's back. Damn, we can't do anything to cure this patient, and we can't get rid of her. Are you sure she's that sick? Can we scare her away? Oh yeah, I've got a really good 'test', let's see if she is willing to go through with it. ..... Wow, she did that test. She must really really want medical care. Hmmm, OK, well, then I have another test lined up, let's see if she still thinks it's worth bothering us for our time after THIS one! ...... Damn, she put up with that. Amazing. How are we going to get rid of her now? Oooh, I thought up something really evil....." and so forth.
It began with the usual needle sticks for blood draws. I never had a needle phobia, I was one of those people who always was intrigued with the human body and watched the blood draws up close. But years of repeated needle sticks and IVs, not to mention the 3 or 4 sticks it usually takes, and those attendants who don't want to waste a stick, so if they miss the vein, they will dig the needle around in my arm, trying to catch a vein with the sharp edge...... I'm officially needle phobic. My blood pressure (never a problem before) rises automatically in the chair.
Then there were the urine tests. Nobody wants to hold a cup in the urine stream and collect their urine (well, if anybody does enjoy this, I don't want to know about it.) And then wandering around the office or hospital trying to find the person who wants one's urine? I have spent so much time carrying around little cups of yellow liquid, that I can no longer drink lemonade or mountain dew without a gag reaction (well, maybe that is a normal reaction to mountain dew?)
Apparently I did the urine tests a little too smoothly, because the next doctor had to up the ante with a 24-hour urine test. In this test, I am issued a big plastic jug, and for 24 hours every time I need to pee, I have to pee into the jug. In between peeing, the jug must be kept in a refridgerator. It's a workday, so this means that I have to carry a jug of urine around the office, and keep it in the lunchroom fridge. If you want to know what carrying a jug of urine does for your poise and social standing.... well you can imagine. The only good thing I can say about that experience is that nobody stole my lunch that day.
I thought the 24-hour urine test would prove my dedication to following doctor's orders, but after a few years I think it was time for the medical establishment to set the hurdles higher again. Since then, there have been breathing tests that locked me in a glass box while I asphyxiated, tests that dug around in various parts of my anatomy that I consider private, and at last the sleep test.
I've tried to think of this as performance art, I've tried to imagine what it is like to have a medical sexual fetish, but ultimately, I can't find a way to put a positive spin on this. The best I can say, is that with a certain bravado, I'm going to vault any hurdle the freaky medical testing people put between me and treatment.
I just shudder to think what could be coming after the sleep test.
Here is how this test goes:
I report to the Sleep Center, where electrodes and wires are placed all over my head, face and body, attached to a portable unit that I must carry with me at all times. It takes about 35 minutes for the attendant to attach all of the electrodes with a heavy glue.
I sit and read, watch TV from a chair. Then at 10:30, I am ordered to lie down in bed, lights out. The camera zooms in on me, and a voice over an intercom tells me which way to move. Very sci-fi. Then, "go to sleep."
Sleep isn't easy because the air conditioner is broken and I keep waking up in a sweat. Mercifully the attendants bring in a fan. Somehow I do get to sleep. Then I'm woken up again for some procedure. Back to sleep. And just when it's restful, then at 5:45, I am awoken, bright lights on, and must immediately get out of bed.
I'm tired. But now I have to somehow stay awake. I have brought books to read, there's a TV. All I can think about is sleep.... The camera follows me to make sure that I am awake. As soon as I start to slouch and lie down, or my eyes start to close, desperate for a little rest, then someone runs into the room and makes me get up and stay awake. Then, after a few excruciating hours, where all I can think about is rest, there is a "nap test." I get to go to bed, lights off, lie down..... ahhhhhhh. It feels so good, I'm asleep in minutes. And just as rest has come over me, the bright lights snap on, people come in the room, and I'm ordered out of bed immediately and have to stay awake again.
All day long this cycle repeats -- forced to stay awake, then allowed to sleep just long enough to feel it's sweetness come over me, then dragged out of bed again and forced to stay awake. All I can think of is the next nap time and how many moments of sleep I can steal before they come for me.
Sure, the accommodations are very comfortable and quiet, and the food is good, but I can't help feeling like I'm in a prison torture chamber. Sleep deprivation and disruption of circadian rhythms is a time-honored torture method for breaking down prisoners. Every time the cheerful orderlies burst in to get me out of bed, every time I hear the camera zoom in on me to see if I'm asleep, I am filled with an irrational, involuntary, desperate desire to bargain with them, to confess. What do they want from me? They can have it! I'm ready to talk! If I tell them what they want to know, will it do any good? Will they actually let me sleep?!
Which brings me to look back on all the torturous medical tests I have undergone in the past 3 years. Each level of testing seems more excruciating and humiliating. And I think this is the real purpose of the design of these medical tests -- to test just how desperate the patient.
Because anyone who wasn't at the end of their rope, and willing to do anything to get well, would not put up with this, but just say, "Forget it, this isn't worth it," and refuse to comply. I know if anyone had suggested most of these tests 7 years ago, I probably would have just said, "Nah, I'll live with this illness."
I imagine all the doctors gathered in a room behind some one way glass.
"She's back. Damn, we can't do anything to cure this patient, and we can't get rid of her. Are you sure she's that sick? Can we scare her away? Oh yeah, I've got a really good 'test', let's see if she is willing to go through with it. ..... Wow, she did that test. She must really really want medical care. Hmmm, OK, well, then I have another test lined up, let's see if she still thinks it's worth bothering us for our time after THIS one! ...... Damn, she put up with that. Amazing. How are we going to get rid of her now? Oooh, I thought up something really evil....." and so forth.
It began with the usual needle sticks for blood draws. I never had a needle phobia, I was one of those people who always was intrigued with the human body and watched the blood draws up close. But years of repeated needle sticks and IVs, not to mention the 3 or 4 sticks it usually takes, and those attendants who don't want to waste a stick, so if they miss the vein, they will dig the needle around in my arm, trying to catch a vein with the sharp edge...... I'm officially needle phobic. My blood pressure (never a problem before) rises automatically in the chair.
Then there were the urine tests. Nobody wants to hold a cup in the urine stream and collect their urine (well, if anybody does enjoy this, I don't want to know about it.) And then wandering around the office or hospital trying to find the person who wants one's urine? I have spent so much time carrying around little cups of yellow liquid, that I can no longer drink lemonade or mountain dew without a gag reaction (well, maybe that is a normal reaction to mountain dew?)
Apparently I did the urine tests a little too smoothly, because the next doctor had to up the ante with a 24-hour urine test. In this test, I am issued a big plastic jug, and for 24 hours every time I need to pee, I have to pee into the jug. In between peeing, the jug must be kept in a refridgerator. It's a workday, so this means that I have to carry a jug of urine around the office, and keep it in the lunchroom fridge. If you want to know what carrying a jug of urine does for your poise and social standing.... well you can imagine. The only good thing I can say about that experience is that nobody stole my lunch that day.
I thought the 24-hour urine test would prove my dedication to following doctor's orders, but after a few years I think it was time for the medical establishment to set the hurdles higher again. Since then, there have been breathing tests that locked me in a glass box while I asphyxiated, tests that dug around in various parts of my anatomy that I consider private, and at last the sleep test.
I've tried to think of this as performance art, I've tried to imagine what it is like to have a medical sexual fetish, but ultimately, I can't find a way to put a positive spin on this. The best I can say, is that with a certain bravado, I'm going to vault any hurdle the freaky medical testing people put between me and treatment.
I just shudder to think what could be coming after the sleep test.
The Healing Power of Sarcasm
Random Jerk:
"You create all this drama saying you're sick, but I know you're not sick. I see you around, shopping, going to parties, hanging out with friends, you're having fun, you're laughing, you don't look sick at all. All that stuff about being sick is all in your head. I can see that there is nothing wrong with you."
Me:
"Wow, you can tell if a person has a serious illness just by looking at them???
That is amazing!
To think that hospitals and labs and research scientists spend millions of dollars developing and administering tests on a microscopic level, and meanwhile all you have to do is look at someone from across a room at a coffeehouse and you can tell if they have a systemic disorder or not!
Think how much money this will save the city government!
We need march across to Denver General Hospital right now and tell them to dismantle their laboratory, their nuclear medicine division, send all their diagnosticians with MD's and PHD's home, because all they need to do is to station YOU at the door and just by looking at someone you can diagnose that patient.
You need to IMMEDIATELY inform the government of your awesome super-power!
Just march right up to the ER door and tell them that you have an incredible super-power that is better than X-ray vision, and that all the people who have spent decades in graduate research can go home right now because you are better than them.
Go now! It's your civic duty! I'm sure they will all be delighted by this new discovery and you will be treated like a hero.
No - wait! Why waste your incredible gift on just a local government? You need to share this with all humanity.
Right now, the Centers for Disease Control has an entire division dedicated to communicable diseases -- TB for example -- that they believe can be transmitted from person without anyone being aware of the danger. Those fools! All you need to do is look at a person and you'll know if they are "sick" or not.
And what about AIDS?
All this money being spent to instruct people that they have to always practice safe sex and use a condom, because one can't tell by looking if a fit, healthy-looking partner could be harboring a deadly syndrome.
Well forget safe sex! There's no need for that anymore, you can just look at a person, and you'll know if they have AIDS or not!
This gift of yours is going to change the world. What are you hanging around here for? You need to immediately start calling the World Health Organization, call the New York Times, call the Journal of the American Medical Association! They need to know about your ability to diagnose dangerous disorders just by looking at someone! Go tell them now! Go!"
Warning: This is the roundhouse kick to the head of Emotional Kung Fu. If the person just said, "Gee, you don't look sick", out of ignorance, it's overkill to return fire with a response like this. A person who says "Gee you don't look sick" might really be well-meaning.
However, if you get the "you're just faking it" or "it's all in your head" speech from a real jerk (and only a real jerk would say "you're faking it," so it's a dead giveaway), then I recommend kicking them upside the head with this deadly sarcasm move.
It will knock them out, emotionally speaking, and they will be speechless except for some weak grumbling.
But YOU will feel a lot better. And that's all I care about.
"You create all this drama saying you're sick, but I know you're not sick. I see you around, shopping, going to parties, hanging out with friends, you're having fun, you're laughing, you don't look sick at all. All that stuff about being sick is all in your head. I can see that there is nothing wrong with you."
Me:
"Wow, you can tell if a person has a serious illness just by looking at them???
That is amazing!
To think that hospitals and labs and research scientists spend millions of dollars developing and administering tests on a microscopic level, and meanwhile all you have to do is look at someone from across a room at a coffeehouse and you can tell if they have a systemic disorder or not!
Think how much money this will save the city government!
We need march across to Denver General Hospital right now and tell them to dismantle their laboratory, their nuclear medicine division, send all their diagnosticians with MD's and PHD's home, because all they need to do is to station YOU at the door and just by looking at someone you can diagnose that patient.
You need to IMMEDIATELY inform the government of your awesome super-power!
Just march right up to the ER door and tell them that you have an incredible super-power that is better than X-ray vision, and that all the people who have spent decades in graduate research can go home right now because you are better than them.
Go now! It's your civic duty! I'm sure they will all be delighted by this new discovery and you will be treated like a hero.
No - wait! Why waste your incredible gift on just a local government? You need to share this with all humanity.
Right now, the Centers for Disease Control has an entire division dedicated to communicable diseases -- TB for example -- that they believe can be transmitted from person without anyone being aware of the danger. Those fools! All you need to do is look at a person and you'll know if they are "sick" or not.
And what about AIDS?
All this money being spent to instruct people that they have to always practice safe sex and use a condom, because one can't tell by looking if a fit, healthy-looking partner could be harboring a deadly syndrome.
Well forget safe sex! There's no need for that anymore, you can just look at a person, and you'll know if they have AIDS or not!
This gift of yours is going to change the world. What are you hanging around here for? You need to immediately start calling the World Health Organization, call the New York Times, call the Journal of the American Medical Association! They need to know about your ability to diagnose dangerous disorders just by looking at someone! Go tell them now! Go!"
Warning: This is the roundhouse kick to the head of Emotional Kung Fu. If the person just said, "Gee, you don't look sick", out of ignorance, it's overkill to return fire with a response like this. A person who says "Gee you don't look sick" might really be well-meaning.
However, if you get the "you're just faking it" or "it's all in your head" speech from a real jerk (and only a real jerk would say "you're faking it," so it's a dead giveaway), then I recommend kicking them upside the head with this deadly sarcasm move.
It will knock them out, emotionally speaking, and they will be speechless except for some weak grumbling.
But YOU will feel a lot better. And that's all I care about.
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