Today was the first day that I have truly felt sad about the work that I do. We had a patient test positive who is 18, just graduating from high school and going to college, and who (from she reports) contracted it from the first person she was ever with.

For some reason, because of all that, I was just totally pained to hear that she was positive. I was hoping it was a false positive. We have found about 13 positives since I’ve been in my position, and the others were kind of whatever. A lot of them weren’t unknown (they already knew they were positive), all of them were older. But she’s 18. And she’s only been with 2 people. I guess it just slammed in my face that it is NOT about how many people you’re with; it’s about whether or not you sleep with someone without a condom who is positive. You could be with 100 people and never contract it. Or one and you would. I just think it’s so important for people to remember that, to get over the stigma of it that makes people not get tested, think they’re not at risk.

I think it also sucks that HIV hits people who are already down in our society–people of color, men who have sex with men, poor people. So many of my patients had problems that were so much worse than HIV–that truly was the least of their problems. That’s just it, though. When HIV is the least of your problems, you shouldn’t have to deal with it. I guess it just highlights the inequalities in our society and the shit other people go through. Anyway. I don’t have anything further to say right now. Just that it sucks. And that if 80% of new diagnoses of HIV weren’t in black and hispanic people, you bet you ass there’d be more money for research into preventative measures. That’s what I think, anyway.

I got in a disagreement with a coworker yesterday. It was really stupid (the disagreement), but it was one more straw on a stack that’s building. And I wanted to lessen that, but instead I added my own stack.

I have been frustrated before about the sociological implications of my job, and my having more social power but not any more technical power in the work place. Maybe not articulated exactly that way, but that’s how I see if now. But this truly takes the cake, AND I think I didn’t realize how unaligned my view of the world is with several of the folks I work with. Now, we have several Case Managers (6?), several of whom I get along quite well with, at least I think. But there are two with whom I have seen more potential for difficulty–I’ll call them R and C. Both of these women fall into the categories of black women who are former drug users, have cleaned up and gotten Bachelor’s degrees, and a great union job. There is one other coworker who fits into this category (we’ll call her B). But for whatever reason, I have seen R and C are much more intimidated?

So I have had not really any difficulty with C (though she can be frustrating to deal with), perhaps because I have skated around her as though I could see the ice cracking already. But I felt more comfortable with R from the beginning, which I think ironically made things more dangerous. Once EMR began and everyone started asking me questions about computers ALL THE TIME (not complaining, just noting), she would call me and I would answer, “What?” because I wanted people to get to the point. Not the most professional, I realize, but actually I think it was an attempt to communicate like my coworkers (in a joking way), just the way I interpreted it. Which was not appreciated. She informed me; I have not since answered any of her phone calls or yelling out from her desk with, “What?”

Then a few months ago, all of our supervisors were gone except for a very high-up supervisor, and I made the mistake? of telling him what I wad doing. R told me that he doesn’t need to be involved in our business, that we do our own thing and keep to ourselves. Which, to me, is bizarre. I come from the assumption that authority is here to protect us, to make sure everything that needs to get done, does. Which really is what all this boils down to. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

So yesterday R comes over to me and asks in a very flustered manner what we were supposed to be doing with a particular list. I had created a set of directions to do what needed to be done (which she didn’t actually know), but before I told her that, I did not want her to be mad. I mean, she can be mad, but I didn’t want to be talking to someone who was so flustered, even as it was not directed towards me. So I made a huge mistake. Huge. And also very preventable, had I taken two seconds to think about it, and reacted to her as a person unlike me. But no, I told her to take a breath. Bad move. Did I make that clear yet??

She told me not to talk to her “like that,” to never mind and walked away. Whoops. Now, part of me really wishes I just had never said anything. But I also feel frustrated in not being able to be myself. In not being around people who are self-assured enough to shrug off my telling them to take a breath, or who can take a breath and laugh, or whatever. My intention was not to infer that she did not know how to calm herself down, but that we all need a reminder sometimes. And also that I don’t talk to people who are upset. I won’t. That is my limit. And I was trying to convey that in as inoffensive way as possible. But I guess it backfired.

So what I realized it that there is just a huge incongruence in how I view authority an how R does. Asking our supervisor to mediate a conversation did not help. Why did I think it would? She spent the conversation telling me she thinks I look down on her (I actually believe “us” was the word used), and that she was concerned about her job because I brought our supervisor in (though the supervisor made quite clear that she was not there in a supervisory nor disciplinary manner). Despite being I a union. Despite having done nothing wrong. Certainly nothing punishment-worthy. Despite my actually asking HER for information about what I could do differently that would help. Despite all that, she felt threatened. And like I think I’m better than her. And that I have power that she does not. And you know what? She’s right. Not about my being better than her, but that I have more power. I am affluent, if not in my finances, in my vocabulary, in my demeanor, in my confidence and sense of empowerment. And that all counts for a lot, and goes to show you that poverty is about a hell of a lot more than money. It is disturbing to me that an adult reacted as she did to the entire situation, but I have to remember that she’s coming from such a different world. A world where adults and other figures of authority are not to be trusted, and do not have your best intentions in mind.

I am so lucky to not be from that world. But I’m living in it right now, and talk about culture shock, in truly the most depressing way possible. It is a world of no hope, and distrust of but unavoidable reliance upon authority figures. Fear, uncertainty and doubt. This is America, dystopia-style.