The Limp, A Hemorrhagic Cyst and Moving West

The Limp. The limp that brought me into the hospital that saturday morning. I spent the day having various tests done – blood work – x-rays – ultrasounds. All coming back negative. Until. Until. The pelvic ultrasound. Oh what a joy that is ladies? By this time I was in pain and hurdle over moaning and groaning. Then the doctors want you to fill your bladder with water so they can the ultrasound imaging properly. I feel like I’m going to explode and you want me to drink 2 litres of water and hold it?…while you stick a plastic wrapped plastic probe up my hoo haw? Hilarious. But we do it right ladies? The result?

“Katherine , you have what’s called a hemorrhagic cyst on your left ovary and it’s ruptured. That’s why you are in so much discomfort.”
The docs gave me pain killers and said I just had to wait it off. That it would settle down on it’s own and there wasn’t much they could do on their end as it is quite normal and the ovary is not twisting or causing other harm.

I was in the hospital a couple of days and sent home with bed rest. “Are you in a particularly stressful situation in your life right now?” he asked.
“School. It’s a pretty tough program. 30+ hours of class, weekly assignments, 0 tolerance for absenteeism etc.”

“Well I don’t want you going back there for 2 weeks. Stay at home and take it easy please.”

I stayed home a week. I called my school director the day I went into the hospital. Funny timing was that the our directors just switched over the break. So I had never met this new director. Car Accident, hospitalization or death of a loved one were the only acceptable excuses for absenteeism. Clearly I fell under hospitalization.

I just stayed the week and returned the following. Too much missed school and I was feeling better.

The new director handed back my mid report card. It had a big fat 0 on it. I called him. ‘Excuse me Mr., could you explain why I have a zero?”

You didn’t hand in your assignments for a whole week.

“Mr. I was in the hospital. I called you on day 1 and informed you of this.”

“Oh well. You still didn’t hand them in.”

“I couldn’t Mr. Excuse me, but it is in our program that this is an acceptable reason.”

“Oh. Well, ok sorry. I’ll fix that.”

“Yes, thank you.”

That was 1999. I seemed fine until year end. I had wanted to do my coop placement in New York City, having always wanted to live there. I had collected a massive book and photocopied every single design, communications and branding agency in New York city from the small mom and pop shops to the big organizations. I can’t really remember why – maybe the tight urn around deadline – but I ended up doing  placement at a local supposed reputable firm. While I was at work one day I suddenly out of nowhere had the most excruciating pain. Livid pain.I’m sure working where I worked didn’t help. My boss was a yeller. He yelled at me, the kind of yelling where a person yells so much they’re spitting on you – yah that was him. One time he even raised his arm at me to swat me – I shied away and he brought his hand back behind his back. Geez! His office was a pigsty. I’d always had a knack for cleaning, sorting, organizing and decorating – got that from my mom. I reorganized the office completely – did a layout of the floor plan and everything. When he wasn’t given me assignments – shy of my skill level – I found other productive things to do (so I thought). Organizing his book shelf, clients lists, files on the computer. One day he lost it on me and said why was I wasting my time doing nothing – why wasn’t I looking through magazine for inspiration? Pardon?

It was only 2 months of work. They had hired me on after the placement and received a government subsidy for hiring a student straight from school. I could tell business was slow from the drop in incoming calls and jobs going out. I got called into the office one day with his main designer who was also a graduate of the program the year prior. Really nice guy too. The two of them were staring at me and not saying anything. I say there smiling. My boss tried to speak, but couldn’t. He looked over his my colleague, “Archie, can you…you?”

“What?” I said. “What. You have to get rid of me?”

My boss went wide eyed. My colleague smiled relieved. “Ugh, how, how on earth did you know that?”

“Doesn’t take much to see there’s not a lot of work coming in here.”

I did my two weeks and you know what that boss did? When I went to file my taxes, they had no T4, no record of any employment there so I couldn’t file. You go to be kidding me. I had to go and file forms with the government giving them permission to look for this business. They had changed their name once or twice but then disappeared. I was able to track down a fax of proving that he paid me as he would request the subsidy from the government every two weeks. And that rascal, he paid me with personal cheques, but had hand written the deductions on each one, but never submitted them. Nice. Even cheaper labour.

That was on Monday. On friday my 2nd love, dumped me on the phone. 1 week after celebrating our 1 year anniversary and I had bought him an expensive dress watch. Nice. Thanks.

I’m leaving! I’m moving out west…

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Go west, Go west…. { the Petshop Boys }

Locale:  Starbucks. Why have some Starbuck’s taken those away?
On Deck: Slave to Love by Roxy (I have a wide assortment of music let me tell yah!)
State of Being: It’s starting to feel like Christmas.


One thought on “The Limp, A Hemorrhagic Cyst and Moving West

  1. Cory Maheral says:

    Nice, I had a boss like that strait out of school too. Same subsidy through the government, and no amount of work was good enough. Had to work weekends, just to try to stay ahead. Difference was, I got out myself. Found another job teaching and said good buy to some pretty great people. All because of a boss who couldn’t deligate worth a damn…
    Keep up the good work Kate.

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