The first time I saw Anasa Matthews I was impressed by her beauty and youth: tall, thin, hair in a bun, big liquid brown eyes, perfect posture, and plenty of poise. She was new to the methadone clinic in Venice. She was in charge of this clinic which had about 50 to 100 patients.

I learned she had a Master’s degree from USC. She was my counselor beginning in early 2017. She would meet with me as my counselor for about six months.

These counseling sessions were fairly uneventful. I told her about books I was reading and movies I saw. She told me about her family of 10 brothers and sisters, and how she herself was a twin. She didn’t offer very much about herself.

One day I showed up at the clinic to receive my two weeks worth of take-homes. I had been on this two-week schedule since I had transferred to the Venice Clinic from a sister clinic on Pico Boulevard. That clinic had been run by Stephanie who kept stalling me on this two-week schedule. I had earned this privilege since I began taking methadone in 1994. As a continuous patient with no dirty urine tests for at least 20 years, the clinic allowed me to come twice a month to take home two weeks worth of bottles.

On this day, August 11, 2014, Anasa called me into her office. First, she asked me to give her urine sample. I was not surprised; any time I walked in there I was prepared. I gave her my bottle. She probably checked with a thermometer to see if it was at body temperature. Then she told me she was taking away my take-home schedule for thirty days.

She pulled out a paper that the lab had sent. It showed 16 chemicals the lab had tested: codeine, cocaine. benzodiazepines, etc. It also tested for creatinine, 3.2 mg/dL. It said in small print: Possible substituted sample. Value less than 5mg./dL.

There is no “possible” in Anasa’s world. Any odditity is indication of a crime.

I was not too sure what creatinine was all about. I saw it as a supplement at the health food store. But I knew there was no substitution of sample here. But I did know I had seen the same situation happen to other people at the clinic on Pico. I also knew how Stephanie had handled it. She took another urine test to send to the lab. Stephanie knew this was no crime.

Well, I was beginning to realize Anasa was inexperienced. One thing she told me was that she had looked into creatinine. Another thing she told me is that she had asked the lab to retest it. In her mind, she had gone beyond the necessary diligence.

So I did what any normal person would do when being falsely accused. I didn’t throw out any racial epithets, but I think I said something about ebonics.. I left, telling her there were plenty of other clinics I could go to.

I e-mailed my doctor at Kaiser for a creatinine blood test on August 12, the next day. By the time the results were sent to my Kaiser website. Anasa had disappeared for several days. So I had to wait until Wednesday, August 23, to show her my low creatinine blood test from Kaiser. It was low: .98. The website also showed a low creatinine level from a year ago.

By this time, August 19, I had been admitted to Kaiser emergency for something related to my digestive system. I asked them to give me the results of my blood test there, which showed negative for illegal drugs, also my creatinine levels.

I had hoped that by doing this small research into my creatinine level, and also hoping she learned something from other counselors at her “training,” she might realize she had made a mistake. Instead she passed the buck by telling me I could wait two more days to see the doctor, Dr. Katukota Vijaya.

By now I was hoping to talk to a medical professional. Instead it got worse. I already thought I was in the Twilight Zone, but after talking to this “doctor,” I was convinced I wasn’t on earth any more.

I had seen this lame doctor a couple or times before, and I noticed she had a serious problem with showing up on time. This reflected her vibe of being above all these low-life junkies. Finally, after waiting at least three hours, the doctor asks me two questions: 1) do I take water pills? (No) and 2)Do I have hepatitis C?”

No, I don’t have hepatitis C. I used to have it, but it went away on its own. This answer did not fit her pictures, therefore I must be lying. She said, “Until I see evidence that she doesn’t have hepatitis C, I don’t feel comfortable reinstating her take-homes.”

Anasa was there, trying to calm me down, because she knew that this quack probably couldn’t pass a high school biology test. I don’t think I have ever been treated so rudely by a doctor. Hepatitis has nothing to do with creatinine.

But like a total FOOL, I set off to prove to the ignorant doctor that I did not have hepatitis C at present. Plus I was losing my cool that she was doubting my word. Anasa then said she would try to help me by searching on my Kaiser website for proof. We sat down in her office. After printing out my five pages of medical history, it dawned on me that my private doctor before Kaiser was the one who had monitored my blood tests, and my Kaiser records only went back three or four years. Nor could I understand the medical codes.

After four or five hours with this doctor and Anasa, I went home with bleary eyes. The next day I called my doctor at Kaiser to blood test me for hepatitis A,B, and C. That ended up costing me $130. It hadn’t occurred to me yet that the doctor was just sending me on a fool’s errand. I started to wonder if the doctor was following orders from Anasa. Sometimes Anasa acted like she wanted to help me (with the computer.) Other times she acted like she wanted to catch me. By the way, after she “helped” me, my Kaiser website didn’t work so good.

Tuesday, August 29, Anasa asked fir another U/A test, but she asked for a nurse to observe me in the bathroom. This surprised me since I had been bending over backwards to show my sincerity.

But A CLOSED MIND IS ALWAYS CERTAIN.

My anxiety and panic attacks that I had cured six years ago, were coming back full force. No matter what proof or facts I presented, nobody was interested and I was exhausted with the struggle. But I still kept asking Anasa, what if this happens again? She always answered with a shrug. This is when I start to realize her motivations. What a great place to work if you get your kicks pushing people around.

By now I planned to transfer to Matrix. I was afraid that even this move would be hampered by Anasa. I decided to just wait to end my thirty day “punishment,” and have my take-homes reinstated. I still was trying to discuss with Anasa what would happen if I had low creatinine levels again. Would I be faulted for peeing watery pee? But I realized she thinks she has the right to punish for low creatinine. I showed her my Kaiser records since 2015. It showed three to four low creatinine tests. This is not surprising from an older woman with low muscle mass.

Finally the 28 days were up, and when I asked what day I would go back to my original schedule, Anasa gleefully exclaimed, “No, it’s 30 days. You’re the one who kept saying it was 28 days. I just didn’t correct you.”

Once more, I tried to ask her what would happen in the future? And the more I talked to her, the more I learned that she did not think she had done anything wrong. Her mind was not open to the scientific facts about the creatinine and urine testing. In one of these discussions I tried to make a joke: “Black woman speak with forked tongue.” I was using the tone of those old cowboy movies, trying to lighten the mood. I waited for her reaction. She had checked out and didn’t even hear my words. Why should she? To her I’m the biggest liar on the face of the earth.

Finally my take-home schedule was reinstated. I asked Anasa what would happen in the future

At one point I remembered that to back up a good fact, you have to have a good theory. Most people think you start with the theory and the facts follow. So I asked her, “What do you think? That we go into the bathroom and add water from the sink into the urine sample?” “Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly what I think.”

Well,” I told her, “the lab already checks tor water in the urine sample in a separate test having to do with specific gravity.”

So what reaction do you think I got from Anasa? You guessed it. The same blank stare that I had gotten all month. She did not know that the lab tests for water in the urine sample.

I decided now to switch to another clinic. I went to Matrix to inquire. They told me I had to come in on the day when my take-homes had expired. Now remember because of Anasa joy in messing up my reinstatement schedule, I was to begin my two week take-home schedule on Sunday. So I went to Matrix on the Friday before the Sunday I was to be reinstated.

Well, it’s hard to believe, but the person who ran that clinic (Domingo) was worse than Anasa. Now Domingo was not a put-together poised type person like Anasa. No, he was your typical gang-banger with neck tattoos galore. I was talking to the woman counselor and saw Domingo charging up to manful force, screaming at me with full raised voice. He was so loud, that other people later came up to me at Venice clinic, having witnessed the show.

Domingo was not going to let me get a word in. He was sure I was up to something sneaky. He didn’t know what it was, but with all his “street smarts” he was convinced I was a low-down dirty crook. He started yelling at me, “You have to come in on the day you want to transfer!” He must have repeated this about ten times, in his attempt to drown out anything I was trying to say. I was only trying to tell him that that day would be a Sunday, and I didn’t think they took intakes on Sunday.

He almost succeeded in drowning me out. My friend was pulling me out the door, knowing that dear Domingo had his mind made up. I was crying by now. Finally, I started repeating myself a little bit with my explanation. Somehow I got through to him, but he was not happy.

So now, which clinic would you prefer? A woman who said she has a Master’s degree but couldn’t understand fifth-grade math (Anasa) or street thug who bullies you by shouting you down (Domingo.)

Even so, I made an attempt to transfer to Matrix. That transfer didn’t work out. Anasa dragged her heels with the paperwork, and Matrix made no attempt to resolve the dispute. That Sunday, by the skin of my teeth I got my methadone dose. And I was back where I started at Venice.

During that next month of September, 2017, I was given a new counselor at Venice. This woman was a normal person: a good listener and open-minded. About a week later, I was getting to know my new counselor, Cynthia, and Anasa walked intoned toeded Cynthia’s office. Anasa wanted to tell me that the clinic was going to look into the possibility that I had been wrongly treated concerning the accusation of tampering withy U/A.

I had been in a jovial mood, joking around with Cynthia. I had the perfect retort to little Miss Blank-Face: “Oh, good! Then you can apologize to ME!” Now, remember I had profusely apologized to her for losing my temper the first time she had accused me of tampering with my urine sample. Anasa stood there for a couple moments, searching her feeble brain for a response, while spitting and stuttering. Finally she turned on her heel and made a very hasty exit.

Within a month or two Anasa had disappeared to I don’t know where, and I stayed at Venice clinic happily until about eight months ago.

A couple of days ago, I beat Craig at chess. I think this is the first time. He’s much better than I am. I used to be surprisingly good at it.

The first time I learned the game I was age 19. I had started dating a guy in one of my classes at UCLA. The class was Ancient Greek. This guy was majoring in Ancient Languages. I was satisfying a credit for a third language required for philosophy majors. I was attracted to this guy because he was mild mannered. He lived alone in an off-campus apartment and drove a motorcycle.

One night at his place he taught me how to play chess. This is how he taught me: He told me the names of the pieces and the rules for moving them across the board. Then he told me to move. What? I had no strategy at all. You can’t teach a didactic person like me by letting me learn by trial and error. I learned nothing and did not try to improve.

Later, when I was about 26 years old, I took a course in the psychology department called “The Psychology of Chess.” I think the teacher’s name was Batchelder. What a class! I don’t know how much psychology was in it, but learning strategy of the game was fantastic. I learned how to trade for advantage, how to sacrifice pieces, and techniques I had never expected.

By the end of that class I was as good as any player there. There was one guy I played with regularly. Too regular. He was developing strong feelings for me, and I had to cut it short, because for one thing, he was married.

I played fairly often for several years, but I left it alone for the past thirty or forty years and I got way weaker.

One of the reasons I wanted to hang out with H. was because I wanted someone to play with. At that time Craig beat me every time. H. said he knew how to play but he was rusty. The first time I played him, I beat him with a Fool’s Mate, which I had just learned from Craig. The next couple times we played, H. would pretend to not know the better move. So sometimes I would suggest a possible move for H. Oh, he picked up pretty quick and he started beating me two out of three times. I realized this “helping” was distracting my own performance.

The chess games petered out as we got more and more involved in our arguments about politics.

So I just recently read a short story called “The Royal Game” by Stefan Zweig. It grabbed my interest to the end. Remember I rarely read fiction any more. But this story kept my interest to the end. It’s about a man on an ocean liner probably during the 1950’s or 1960’s. He becomes aware that there is a chess master on board. A match is arranged between the master and another rich Scottish man. During the game, a man reaches over and grabs the wrist of the Scottish man. He says to him not to make that move. The man tells him it’s a trap; the next six or seven moves will lead to the Scottish man losing. The men surrounding the players watch until the chess master declared “Draw.”

The author finds out later the background of the man who grabbed the wrist of the Scot’s man. This passenger had a long story of his background in Austria. He had been quite well-off, until the Getapo arrested him. They had tortured him for about a year in solitary confinement. He stole a small book from the pocket of one of the guards with which he managed to fight off the solitary madness.

The author describes the personalities of the chess master, the Scot, and the Austrian. I thought the story pulled me in.

Bye for now…

Still reading book by Hunter Biden’s wife of over 20 years. Much more authentic than his own book. Good story about living with an addict. Also all the secrets. In A.A. I learned a saying: You’re as sick as your secrets. The first time I heard that phrase I was all-in with my own addiction. I knew I couldn’t use pure will-power or grit or any other right wing pull yourself up by your own bootstraps advice. I made a vow to stop lying as much as possible. n

I began to explore the use of lies in everyday communication. I noticed how lawyers seem as if they took a college course in lying, avoiding lies, and the nature of lies. I learner there are many forms of lies. One is lying by omission. You can lie by sarcasm or humor, and there are other categories.

But the best way to avoid lying is to shut up. I watch these cops who feel free to lie to a suspect but go crazy if the suspect lies. I wonder why people who are arrested try to talk their way out of if when their best strategy is to ask for a lawyer.

Anyway, as a methadonian I don’t have to be deceitful so much. But try to tell that to some counselors, like the cops just put you in the liar category. So now, with my current counselor I can take the moral high ground, as she is the only one lying in our dispute. That’s OK though, because I still dig my counselor. So I’m not going to hold this dispute against her. She’s still for real enough. She didn’t go all robot on me.

Also, since D.D. came on the scene I have been astounded how people don’t even hear the falsehoods. Also, his intelligence has to be in the moron or imbecile category. I used to give I.Q. tests in the 1970’s. I still have some in my filing cabinet. My friends an acquaintances at the time were generous enough to let me practice on them. You know who you are Pat, Kel, Bart, etc.

So, yeah, D.D. could not pass a standard intelligence test, SAT, or ACT. If you think he could, I would wonder about your ability to pass any test. Forget Woman, Man, Camera, TV…..

Signing off…;

Superpowers.

It just occurred to me that Double Downer might actually have a superpower. He doesn’t text. He may be completely illiterate. I doubt if he writes the Twitter feeds alone. My friends are always encouraging me to text, which I never got in the habit of, because I don’t understand something that seems more work than actually speaking.

All the flunkies around D.D. are having their texts scrutinized now by the D.O.J. Rudy, Mark Meadows, etc. But where are the texts from D.D.? I know he has been compared to a mob boss. But I’m wonder about his reading and writing skills.

I’ve been reading a good book called All the Frequent Troubles of Our Day about an American woman who was beheaded by Hitler. It provides an excellent history of Hitler’s rise to power. It’s more like reading current events when you compare it to the rise of D.D. You know the Weimar Republic allowed free speech. Then Goebbels was put in charge of media.

I was not very good in history: too many dates, too far away, but I really get off on it now. I dig journalism, history.

Saw an interesting movie: Body Brokers, with Michael K. Williams. Usually Craig can predict the plot, but there was a slight twist in the middle of the movie, involving the doctor. I would expect the cops to be the villain, but not here.

Also I was reading a book by Bill Nye the science guy. He talks about the four freedoms mentioned in FDR’s speech: freedom of speech, religion. But also freedom from want, and freedom from fear. Compare that eloquence to Republicans who shout freedom all over the place. Deep thinkers.

One of my oldest friends was surprised by how much counseling I get at the methadone clinic I’m at now, Aegis. Well, I do adore my main counselor. I also like my substitute counselors. I get once a week phone counseling, and then Kaiser throws in two or three sessions a quarter. So it seems like I get to yak about myself a lot.

Because I haven’t use heron since I moved to the L.A. area, I don’t feel the need for counseling with using hard drugs. But one of the best parts of counseling is I try to make use of feedback from my counselors.

I have gotten along with all of my counselors, except for one, the one I call the Queen of Mean. That happened at Venice Clinic, and it was very confusing and even traumatic for me. Soon I’ll write about the whole story. but it is complicated.

Bye for now…

Who is the easiest person to fool?

Here’s a riddle for you. I’ll give answer on my next post.

Every time I see a Republican on the news, I think of H. When Double Downer (Trump) first got elected, I was so shocked by the lies put out by Republicans. Of course, like many people H.’s standard response was, “Everybody lies.” I’m not sure this is true. There are many types of lies, of course. There are lies of omission. There are lies that look as if they are true, until you investigate further. And intention also has a lot to do with it. There are people who just repeat stuff whether they know it’s true or not.

But D.D. seemed to be a pathological liar. Then you would turn to FOX where people who should have known better back up his lies. I challenged H. to come up with a lie from the Democrat side. I’ll never forget his answer; the next time we met, H. said, “Nancy Pelosi said she plans to/wants to…” I cut him off. I said, That’s not a fact. That’s an opinion.” H. said, “What’s a fact?” By answering that question, I lost H.’s attention. We let the subject drop. A couple of weeks later H. came up with a similar example, something about someone being a communist. Again there was no evidence of a statement of fact.

After about a year, H. came up with Obama’s claim that you could keep your doctor under Obamacare. My answer was the same as the one I used three or four years before: you could probably keep your doctor if you were willing to pay him. There was no law against that.

I briefly heard the governor of Texas quote some statistics about how there were more shootings in Illinois, California, and New York? than compared to the school shooting recently. Comparing apples and oranges is a good way to confuse people. Was he talking about shootings per 100,000, school shootings, or what?

I’m pretty good at spotting the right-wing’s phony stats because in graduate school I took two semesters of statistics. Most college graduates only take one semester.

O.K. kids, see you next time…

A lot has happened in the last few months since I attacked Fox News cultists.

Mainly, I have changed to a different methadone clinic. I had been at the last clinic for over 20 years. In the past I have changed four times. Each little gathering place has its own atmosphere. Generally that is a Nazi atmosphere. A lot of counselors realize they have a teeny bit of power of us lowlifes.

So I was a little nervous about changing to this new clinic in Ingleweird. The first day I went in, it felt like I was being interviewed for a job. The doctor asked me how my teeth were. He seemed satisfied that I had had implants.

The head counselor and I started out by butting heads. When I walked into her office there was a desk. On one side of the desk was a chair, and on the other side were three chairs. I started to sit down in the one chair, and the counselor, C., said, “Oh, are you going to sit in my chair?” I was so confused by the desk arrangement at first. I said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t see very well.” There were a couple other kerfuffles, but by the time I got to know this woman I was so impressed with her credentials, I told her, “Let me just slink out of here.” She had a Ph.D. and a lot of other very impressive stuff. She showed me some pictures on her phone. One was of her snow skiing.

The last counselor I had was a fraud: the one I call the Queen of Mean. She had told me she had a Master’s from USC. But after I got to know her, I realized she hadn’t passed fifth grade arithmetic. I also realized she was out of touch with reality.

There is another office worker there who exudes confidence and efficiency. The doctor is the only scary one. He had been pushing this office worker to hurry up. I had to comment: “She’s a machine!” I don’t think he got it.

There are still hoops to jump through, but I feel more relaxed now.

The past three months I have been limping around with a walker. I broke a bone in my pelvic area. It healed on its own, because by the time I got to a doctor I had healed.

Until next time…

It’ been a while

Reading John Karl,s book on the lead-up to the big lie. I keep asking myself, Who are therse people who act like these Trumpsters? Who are these people who think they are so superior? Who think they can do whatever they want, other people be damned? Who are so ME, ME, ME. This book reads like a thriller. And I stand by my opinion that Double Downer is the dumbest individual in the world. He doesn’t speak before he thinks, he abuses and misuses the idea of loyalty which he values so much. Do his voters need a leader so bad that they are incapable of critical thinking? His glorification of fight, fight, fight, and win, win, win is not the way to be in a society of people. Win at any cost? If that is the way you are, I prefer to avoid you.

It’s so much fun to watch Fox News. Now they have their panties in a twist over the woman on Venice Beach who threw an egg (and missed) at Larry Elder. Since these people in their groupthink have agreed that she must be racist because Elder is black. Hasn’t anyone taken a class in psychology?

Attribution theory is one of the earliest studies in social psychology. To what do you attribute the motivation of another person? What causes a person’s behavior? The person who is trying to guess the motive is usually colored by their own thoughts an experience. There is a lot of research about intrinsic vs. extrinsic motives. So you can wonder about the Venice woman. Does she detest black people? Does she despise his silly policies? Does she think he is a blowhard? Is she tired of the deluge of lies from the Repubs?

So it would be nice to know the motives of a person before you judge her in your knee-jerk manner. Venice girl is in my neighborhood. I hope I know her personally.

Again, define yourselves when you say racist. I believe we are all prejudiced, can’t help it. We can fight against it by having an open mind. Getting back to H., he believes having an open mind is a bad thing. He will grip onto an idea he learned in 1960 and never let go.

One of the last times I spoke to him I asked if he wanted a free subscription to Time magazine. No. Was it too left wing? He didn’t really know. I asked him to do an informal survey of people in conversation: “Do you think Time is left wing?” He never did, because he would rather grip his own ideas to the death, and how dare anyone try to change them. Probably more likely is H.’s avoidance of the written word. He acts like he can’t read. But I asked him to read a couple sentences in front of me. So I still don’t get it.

Back to Larry Elder incident, Craig says these people need a mirror: so quick to accuse while afraid to look at their own selves. Hey, this works for both sides of the aisle, too. But the best way to avoid these human defense Freudian defense mechanisms (projection) is to be aware of them.

Off for now…