Tuesday, and Learning the Steps

I am on hold to triage again this morning.

It’s become routine in a way I never expected, not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary.

You learn quickly that if you want something heard, it has to be recorded somewhere that matters.

I used to call the team directly.

That felt like the right way, go through the proper channels, trust the process.

But over time, you start to notice what actually works and what doesn’t.

There are steps.

Over time, you learn which ones actually move things forward.

So now, I call the hospital.

Not because I want to make a bigger deal of things, but because it already is a big deal.

Because blackouts aren’t something you leave sitting in a voicemail that may or may not be passed on. Because if I have to advocate, then I will do it properly, in a place where it’s logged, where it exists, where it can be acted on.

And while I wait on hold, I pull weeds.

There’s something steady about it. Simple. Honest.

You see what needs to go, and you deal with it.

No barriers, no gatekeepers.

Not everything is complicated. Some things, you can still pull out by the root.

The fence has taken a hit overnight possums doing what possums do and one of the tops is loose.

It’s the kind of thing that would usually sit in the back of my mind until it’s fixed.

Today, it can wait.

Some things can wait.

What can’t wait is being heard. What can’t wait is making sure that when something is wrong, it’s acknowledged somewhere that counts.

So I stay on hold.

I keep pulling weeds.

I follow the steps that actually lead somewhere.

And maybe that’s the quiet strength in all of this, not just enduring it, but learning how to move through it differently. Learning which doors open, and which ones don’t.

And choosing, every time now, the path that actually leads somewhere.