I am finally back to work after 332 days on medical leave. It was easier to go on leave than it has been to get off of it. To go on leave I simply had to show I was having surgery, then a couple months later provide documentation for a second surgery.
To return to work my doctor had to complete 'return to work' paperwork. It was okay except they are still in the dark ages technologically. I ended up having to drive 150 kilometres to deliver the paperwork to them in person. I did that, and the doctor only took 4 days (2 the weekend) to get it completed. I told them 3 times I wanted it mailed back to me, no point in driving that far when even Canada Post can be depended on to get it to me within the week.
So the Tuesday I get a call, during a snowstorm, letting me know the paperwork was ready to be picked up. I told them, again, that I wanted it mailed. The post office is 4 blocks from the doctors office versus me living 150kms away. Ok, no problem, it might take time to get there with covid. Normally mail from Owen Sound takes one to three days to reach me.
A week goes by, two weeks, and at the end of the third week I try calling them, several times, but the receptionist I need to talk to is never there. For some reason the rest of them can not write a note to her to tell her to call me? I think they did though.
A few more days pass and finally I am fed up, and I make the drive up there, again, to pick up a copy of the paperwork. It took several times asking but I find out she had mailed it to me the WEEK before! One week! It took her two weeks to go 4, ok, 8, blocks to the post office??
Anyways, I got the paperwork, scanned it and emailed it to my insurance, ironic a guy making minimum wage is in the 21st century when it comes to tech versus a doctors office eh?
I got the original copies of the paperwork one full week later. I think she lied to me, there's no way it took 2 full weeks to get here from Owen Sound (a mail sorting hub) but I digress. We won't even go into how she sent confidential medical information in a simple manila envelope, not even a signature or tracking number. She spent $4 on stamps for it why not $1 more to track it for security sake?
But seriously, the office doesn't have secure email? I mean, pay the $45 a year US and get an email account instead of gmail! I, as I said, have all these things and earn under $15 an hour (excluding the fact I have been on leave for a year earning under 75% of my regular pay).
It is hard to get back into the swing of things. I have temporarily forgotten half the things I had known by heart after 2 years. It is stressful and awkward because I know part of a task I need to do, but then need help from people I trained a year ago to remember how to finish it.
I was intending to work my 28 hours my first week but thankfully it turns out I will only work 19. I think I am going to need a couple weeks to get used to what I already know. It is made doubly stressful with all of this ridiculous covid precautions crap.
I understand now, after wearing a mask (even in intervals between breaks) why babies hate wet diapers. It is this soggy contaminated cloth diaper stuck to your skin all day. I take it off and it is drenched in lip sweat and moisture from breathing heavier than normal.
I have to stifle a cough so as to not scare anyone to thinking I meant have covid when, in fact, my lungs and throat are desperately drawing in oxygen. They won't let us wear face shields without a doctors note, sure, I have not had a doctor since 2009 let me find one just to get a mask exemption note. It is not like I have any other medical concerns that have been self-managed for over a decade that would have priority eh?
My only hope is that saviors like Randy Hillier and others break this cycle of MSM fearporn and bring an end to the scamdemic before the next wave of people sick are those suffering the ill effects of wearing a useless piece of cloth on their faces.
I had a dream last night. I was sitting at a metal café table in the front lawn of a Victorian home. The house had been converted to include a small bistro restaurant. I thought I was in a city, that I am familiar with, because I recognized the name of a beach being several blocks away to the north. The house was on a tree lined street with the river running parallel to the other side of the road. The yard I was seated in had two large trees towering overhead, maples, the side yard had at least two more trees, also maple but with trunks a quarter smaller in thickness, maybe planted a couple decades later?
The house was two storeys plus attic, so is that two and a half or three storeys total? It was old red brick with a round porch off to the left facing the side street. The side facing us had a long indoor porch, with six paned windows, it ran two thirds from the right end of the façade. It was four to six steps up to the door and into the porch which had been renovated to have a larger interior doorway into the house. There was a dining area inside the house, somehow, I just knew it without ever seeing it during the dream.
The problem was across the river was the downtown core, but the red brick buildings were spaced apart I could see the main street road and across it to an empty lot. The downtown core, as I know it, is blocks of buildings with only a few breaks in the long rows, and there are no freestanding buildings on the river side of main street.
Our server/waitress was a woman in her twenties, slender build, shoulder length brown hair, friendly facial features wearing a pressed white dress shirt and black skirt. I invited her to sit down as she served us. I was sitting opposite a male, not sure who, he listened in on our conversation and kept looking off to his right past the bushes up the street.
I noticed there was two elderly women sitting at a table to my right closer to a path that ran down the front yard from the door of the house.
I am not certain how our table was able to remain stable on the grass lawn, but something tells me it was held in place by pins through the base. The chairs were repositionable and somewhat evenly balanced. Each table had three chairs around it.
She sat down or leaned in on my right as we conversed. I found out her name, which I will not include here except the initials EAW. I remember talking about summer tourism traffic and how I worked in the third, or second, most popular tourist beach town in the region. We never finished our conversation before I awoke.
I am wondering if a spirit is not here in my room. Last night I had weird things happen with my television and I have been having vivid dreams for a week or two.
Add to that when I made my bed and tossed the blanket up to straighten it, I got a strong scent of strawberries. There is nothing in my bed or room that could have made that smell. Is it the spirit of EAW? Did she follow me home from somewhere or is she just passing through?
Two hours later…
I tried the dowsing rods and they yielded some results, though not exactly the answers I expected.
I identified a young spirit, I think early twenties, female, by a name starting with “I”, a good spirit. She might be older, there was some inconsistency, I did not get a positive Yes that I wanted. I asked Boy, answer No, Girl, answer Yes. She followed me here from a park. During the session I felt a pressing against my lower skull and jaw area. I got some definitive Yes responses from the rods crossing over sometimes completely. And a couple No questions they went far apart. They separated when I got the answer and asked the spirit to “let go”.
I ended the session.
Since then, I believe the spirit hung around for maybe another night before moving on somewhere else.
I had a strange dream last night, mind you most of my dreams are strange these days. I was inside my old elementary school and a classmate of mine and I were running around the interior halls of the building. I think we were looking for gardens I had planted. At one point we found ourselves in the main back stairs that had led up to the Kindergarten room. The stairs were covered in muddy dirt several feet thick and the surface was filled with a variety of vegetables.
I started picking them but when I stepped into the garden to reach more of the fruits, I sank into the mud up to my knees. My friend tried to pull me out and the dream ended when I was starting to say something to them. There was one other person in the dream, a guy, I never did get a good look at him. I do not think I knew who he was (comparing to real life). The mud, sinking, the garden, the school, even my friend, could all be explained in one way or another. At least, their materialization could, their specific presence in the dream scenario will take some reading.
Garden - green, sign of big joy, productivity, focused approach to life
Old friend from childhood – overwhelmed, overworked in waking life, good fortune in the near future
Old school – knowledge, power
My dreams point to good things coming, even if I do not feel it.