Clippings of the thought and drippings of the thoughtless

The matchup of views

There are two versions of my blog, one which I wrote expressing some feelings that I would not be able to describe after some attempts at doing so, and then I decided to pass the text through an LLM grammar checker with a preference for English and when unqualified, I mean what we speak in Great Britain as opposed to that spoken across the pond.

The tone I went for was emotional rather than casual, formal, laconic, or something else I cannot remember. At Brian’s inadvertent prompting, I won’t even tell which version was the original and the edited and none of the customary delineation of paragraphs and sections, the title of the blog however is original. We can’t give everything to AI when we can allow some human intervention.

To make it even more atrocious but not as bad I had some machinations that crossed my mind as I typed this, I won’t set out where one begins and the other ends, the evil thought was to intersperse the paragraphs. As Brian is wont to say. “I’m not that bad.” My response? That’s between us.

With many thoughts coursing through my mind, I found myself reflecting on a difficult telephone conversation that had left me feeling unsettled. Though I endeavoured to remain calm as I respectfully explained my perspective on the importance of patient-centred care, I sensed tensions rising.

In my attempt to process the interaction, I began writing but soon realized my thoughts lacked focus. While I had intended to respectfully express concerns around communication and coordination of my treatment, my emotions had made it difficult to do so constructively.

Over subsequent days, further challenges with the navigation of my care only added to my feelings of frustration. Multiple attempts at documenting my experience proved futile as overwhelm took hold.

However, with time and distance, clarity emerged. In reframing my goal as open dialogue rather than accusation, I was able to convey my perspective and needs in a balanced manner. Though the road to resolution remains long, small steps toward understanding are progress indeed.

With many thoughts coursing through my mind, I had begun to type away, the discombobulated scratches of the upset that resulted from a telephone conversation that soon lost cordiality for tempers rising.

Surprisingly, I held it together as I lectured my interlocutor on the primacy of the patient in the decision tree of treatment options. I was pulling no punches because taken together, one had become a bystander where full disclosure and engagement should have been the rule.

Six good paragraphs in, I was exhausted, that I put it away thinking I might find the wherewithal to complete it, but it was flailing without direction, and I doubted my ability to rescue it.

Half a day later, another phone call was ping-pong between oncology and urology, with little consideration given to the fact that regardless of department responsibility, I was at the receiving end of their inability to coordinate and the poor management of my case.

I started another write-up and before I could complete the first sentence, I had lost interest and inspiration, it was compounded exasperation seeking the travails of frustration that I have tried hard to avoid with sanguinity.

A day, another, and another before I settled at the keyboard for a third attempt taking a totally different slant from the first two attempts.

It turned out a lot better and much shorter than I expected. I guess some events can snatch away the will to see some things to the desired conclusion.