The Case Manager

I gave my consent for something while meeting with my case manager and I won’t ever again: to whom and for what I’ll never know. But if you are an office person you will want to know what happened; or more importantly, how to get someone’s consent similarly.

I was in a one-on-one with my case manager. It was my time to talk with him. We were talking. The desk phone rang and I said, “You can get that.” He answered the phone and spoke briefly about a form being filed after which we resumed our conversation.

I was uncomfortable with the interruption. Later, I realized that I had given my consent for something. If nothing else, I felt cheated out of my one-on-one time. I won’t ever give my consent to that kind of interruption again. I remembered that as one stunt a person could pull off if they wanted permission of some kind from someone they meet in the office. But my advice is to foster an open and honest relationship with your constituency.

Comments on Research

If I have the 22q11.2 deletion syndrome, it would have contributed to the ease in which Leila found me. She is my AB associated person from as early as when she was conceived. At that time, I was two years old. That she has phocomelia cannot be measured in me. She and I are associated. I just think that this genetic deletion makes a person who could be one, two or three years old more susceptible to getting involved with the AB type. It could not be possible that the deletion was a result of the association to the AB. I was already made. I was two years old. There are no changes possible to a person’s genes.

There should be no fear. A person’s genes are who they are. Try to feel safe knowing that there is nothing to break. The people who are differentiating the conscience and think those that don’t get it are broken have a thought disorder. The distinguishing of the conscience has to do with the size of the twenty-second chromosome. Some people have recessive genes. If a person is to learn their way out of a thought disorder; they should know that distinguishing the conscience is a genetic issue. There are no changes possible to a person’s genes.

You like who you are and you will always be that way.

Down Syndrome

International Advance Directive

I’ve written a New Revised Advance Directive Worksheet 2026. Notice that I refer to a practice as that which takes place at a Hospital, but the advance directive could be adapted for a doctor at a general medical practice. This would still meet the criteria stipulated in the worksheet.

Take another look at the New Revised Advance Directive Worksheet 2026. You won’t find any indication of the worksheet subject matter on the advance directive. It is strictly business. If you do try to propose your information to a doctor under the worksheet concept, it should also be strictly business.

Good luck

Retrospective Conscience

I’ve been thinking about the therapeutic process. Most of the stuff out there is psychoanalysis. Freud must have been concerned with the twenty-second chromosome. Mostly in the case for the dominant trait for conscience as it is passed on from the mother. What I think might not agree with what I’ve said about Freud in the past, but my mom didn’t have a dominant gene. She was recessive in chromosome number 22. That means I might not be the most ideal patient for psychoanalysis.

Now there is a female with phocomelia where I am particularly interesting. The cause of phocomelia is when a child inherits two dominant genes for conscience; one from each parent. This genetic disposition is so assertive that it mars the body, and thus the deformity of the hands and arms. Because this dominant-dominant trait of the twenty-second chromosome is so assertive those babies that do survive are most often of the blood-type AB. There is a Schizophrenia or Schizo-affective Mental Illness in this story, but I’m trying to make a case for psychoanalysis. I wouldn’t say that much about my mother like Freud did with many of the people he studied, but everything pretty much revolves around Leila. This is a no brainer for me, but for a therapist, it is only as easy as finding the language to clinically express my condition. It is not an inheritance issue. In fact I did not inherit a dominant gene for conscience from either parent; I’m recessive like my mom. That is why I ultimately believe that I’m Schizo-affective. At the very least I can say that I have a diagnosis. It is a good start since I am in therapy and the clinician has to start somewhere.

I started out saying I’m not predisposed for psychoanalysis, but on further consideration I realize that having a mental health diagnosis is an awfully good start.

In the blog I have written a lot about the conscience and that is why I have called this a retrospective

Skull

Before Life On Mars

I must tell you there are other elements in the human composition that require our attention before we muse about the life on Mars. There are recent developments in medicine making young people immune to Chicken Pox. As early as 1988, babies have been immunized. They are more psychologically sound than people who have had them. Also, we must consider that the 22^nd chromosome is affected by both the Internet and global warming. This chromosome is responsible for our conscience. It is the most troublesome because of it’s capacity to “Be.” Both of these elements could contribute to our feelings of well-being sociologically. And when I begin to believe that there is life on Mars, I recall these important elements; and, I know that God has very much more to do with them.

Harbor View Hospital

Harbor View Hospital in Seattle Washington has a helicopter pad on the back patio. There is a large grassy area and a long walkway to it in which it is accessible to the public. The pad itself is a raised platform with the actual ground some four feet below. I spent a few hours there one night.

My experience there was that something happened to my left eye. When I was there a helicopter landed. I was lying face down on the ground. The helicopter got closer and closer as it was landing. I knew that it would land and that I was safe; but the stress from the landing was very intense. Just before it touched down and the stress was the worst, my left eye flooded with light. My eyes were shut, but this light was bright and filled my entire eye. I recalled getting punched in the nose. The light from that time was small and concentrated. This was more of an intuitive light; a light that was part of my mind. It went out.

I think about that time at the helicopter pad a lot; and, I wish someday I could return and lay there for another landing experience. I would sincerely like for the light in my other eye to go out too.

High School Diploma

My senior year at Thousand Oaks High School was not without it’s problems. Mr. Chevalier’s English class was after lunch. I ditched his class a lot. As a result of the absences I failed senior English. I was told I would not graduate college prep curriculum and because of my electives I was still going to graduate.

On graduation day I attended the exercises. I did not get a diploma. A teacher directed me to the office where I was to report my problem. There a counselor quickly wrote my name with a sharpie pen on a gold sheet of paper. It was a certificate of some kind. I could not read it because something was wrong. No other students were there and I didn’t see any other diplomas. Getting that certificate didn’t feel like graduating, and I didn’t go to any graduation parties. I really felt left out.

If you want to know what the trouble was try reading One Vote. It is the story about my sophomore year student government experience.

Summer 2001

In May 2001 I left Seattle in pursuit of Leila to New Mexico. She had divorced her husband Steve in San Francisco for me. She came to Seattle and couldn’t confront me on the basis that it was too well. She asked the staff at Community House where I most wanted to go and went there instead; that was Taos New Mexico. When I heard she had left, I went too. We had parallel experiences. Among the many strange events in Taos, we both spent a night in jail. After Taos, we went to Chico California.

I lost my legs during the vacation in Taos and Chico. In July I decided that Leila was a dead end, I would return to Seattle and rejoin the Community House Mental Health place. I rode Greyhound. I stayed from the early hours till day time at the Greyhound station in Seattle. By the time I left the station my legs were swelled up like balloons. I walked on them. Everyone was rushing around talking fast and worried. When I noticed my legs, I wanted to hide. That day I fell asleep in a ditch and was found by Police, Fire, and Ambulance. I was taken to the hospital emergency room. I was told I would need an IV to remedy the swelling. Still groggy, I asked for a girl to administer it. The next day I woke up in the hospital’s safe Unit. I looked over myself down toward my legs. They were normal. That day I was transferred to a facility where I would stay until November – through the September 11^th disaster. My legs have never swelled again since. Well that might not be entirely true, I might have a little swollen mound on my right leg. It is normal for me now, but I think it developed as a remnant from my experience returning to Seattle. Now, I think of it as an organ.

Leila has always been close to me in heart and mind. That vacation was the beginning of a new face of cooperation between us. She now lives in Beverly Hills California and probably recalls our vacation as vividly as I do.