My Post College Life

Random thoughts from a recent grad. Consists mostly of misplaced hostility manifested as sarcastic smack-downs on people I don't personally know.

Monday, May 21, 2007

WTF Man?

During the summer of 2002 I was not in a very good place mentally. College life was not easy for me, and at that time my father passed away leaving me responsible for settling his estate. I began seeing a psychiatrist at the recomendation of my mother. She referred me to her own, a Mr. Jagadeesh K. Moola.

To be honest I really disliked this man at first becuase of his very impersonal, and somewhat cold manner. I think my disapointment was mostly due to my own erroneous expectations. I was expecting a therapist, but this was not his job. He asked me about situations in my life, my reactions and emotions to these events, that was it. No consolation, no tips for feeling better, his job was to diagnose and prescribe, and that was what he did.

A year later I was doing better, and decided to stop taking the medication he had prescribed. I supposed I can't describe exactly what he did to help me out, but suffice to say that he didn't need to, and his kindness and concern meant a lot to me. His wife, Mary, was the office manager/secretary for his practice in Camp Hill, and she was a lovely person. A lot of times I wasn't feeling so great going in for/leaving my appointments, but she would always smile when I came in, and told me to have a good day when I left, and would always manage to get me the appointment time I needed. She had pictures of their kids in frames, and on her desk drawers with magnets.

Now I hear on the radio that some nutsack walked into the office around noon on Friday May 18, pulled out a gun, shot Mary in the chest, and ran away like the little bitch that he is. She died, she fucking died at the ER within the hour. Thinking about how many times I've sat in that waiting room, alone, with Mary a few feet away, well that just freaks me right the hell out. She usually had her door closed, I think it may have been locked on the outside, and she would open it and call you in when Dr. Moola was ready for you. I wonder how this d-bag conviced her to open her door? Did he pretend he was a patient, hell was he a patient??

So here's the lesson kids: you can walk into a Medical Arts building of a hospital, take the elevator up, murder someone, and leave without any static. There is no guard there, and apparently they don't have any cameras in that building because the police's description of "between 5-foot-6 and 5-foot-10 with a slight build, dark and wavy hair, a medium to dark complexion and wearing dark pants" is fucking USELESS!! There is a pharmacy on the ground floor that you HAVE to pass to get upstairs, and I find it really hard to believe there isn't a camera in that pharmacy!

My dentists office is right down the hall from where this all went down. I've been going there since I was born, seriously. What the fuck is going on in this world people? Instead of focusing on what swear words or insensitive adjectives (nappy) we don't want to hear on the public airwaves, how about we focus on how fucking easy it is to get a gun in this country. No joke, it is easier to get a gun than a business loan.

I out right now, I'm just out of words. Fuck.

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