I received this, my fourteenth message from Patricia on 3rd February 2011. This email letter is signed by Patty A and Margaret B. Starting from letter 10, the letters have became more verbose and wordy, presenting more information of Patty's life. We're starting to see a fuller picture now. If this continues, we may be able to write a full length biography of Patty. Does this consistency verify Patricia's story.
Subject: Re: Hello
To Whom It May Concern:
My Dad grew up on the streets of Denver in the 1920's and 1930's and was abused, abandoned, an orphan and his mother chased him out of the house with a butcher knife when he was 6 so he told me. His mother was from Monticello, Arkansas as were his uncle and an aunt and grandmother. His uncle sexually assaulted him when he was younger but he wasn't too much older than my father. They were very lower class, rude, crude, uneducated and not very nice people so he said. His mother was an alcoholic. They all had issues with employment in general. He spent time in several orphanages but was never adopted. He took up truck driving and was an 18 wheel, long haul, coast to coast truck driver for 30 years and wasn't home much. I wasn't ashamed that he drove a truck for a living it was other problems I didn't like. My mom said he wasn't a very good provider and his lack of education always held him back from getting a better job and being a better family person. He was a good driver for the most part and was good at his job and liked what he was doing. He never made a lot of money at it like and income was sporadic if at all. Luckily he met his friend, neighbor and boss Harry Somme who was an independent trucker that had his own independent trucking company so they never got mixed up with other trucking firms who weren't very reputable or reliable. My Dad worked at other jobs such as for the City of Denver where he worked on road crews before he met my mother in the 1950's. He also worked as a day laborer and other temporary jobs outdoors. He had a bad temper that was sometimes frightening and embarrassing and it scared me a lot. I hope I haven't taken after him in later years because of bad DNA present at birth or because of the star, crystal, changeling personality type. I grew up in a rather stressful and competitive neighborhood where many childhood playmates and acquaintances were probably mentally ill or severely mal-adjusted and had other very harmful social or personality disorders that were misdiagnosed or not diagnosed at all until fairly recently. My so called best friend I had for many years that used to live next door to us was also a troublemaker and not very nice so we were glad when they finally moved. The people that are there now remind me a lot of her and her family and that's a little too creepy for comfort. It's almost like they still have an influence over who lives there and what they can still do to us. I was surrounded by not very nice neighbors when I was growing up that I may have considered friends but not anymore. I'm glad those days are over and they moved a long time ago. I'm sure it has affected the relationship with my parents and other friends, family or neighbors and school classmates I may have once had or could have had because of ongoing difficulties. I have spent many years in recovery because of that but hopefully things are finally being resolved. It's been difficult and I have had to go it all alone most of my life but there may be a light at the end of the tunnel I hope.
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My counselor Astrid Anderson in Grand Junction said I had a lot of hope and some to spare and share. I still don't know what she meant by that but that was something positive she said. I don't think I was ever further ahead of anyone or knew more than anyone else or was better than kids my age even in the dormitories. That was someone else's false opinion I didn't need or encourage. I am capable of judging and accepting myself without all that and always have. I never had any problems with self-esteem. It was probably another misdiagnosis. There may have been students in the dorms who had problems with acceptance of homosexuality and drug and alcohol addiction and other identity problems but I wouldn't have known. I never had problems with any of that because I spent my teenage years differently. I may have been more honest than some campus counselors in that I can admit I never had a big head and never had any problems with wanting to be a junior counselor or thought I was better than others or was stuck-up and conceited. I learned all about that the hard way many years earlier when I had a nervous breakdown at age 14.
There were happier times in the dormitories and it was a long time ago. I am concerned for my mother because someone claiming to be a doctor from Grand Junction that knew me years ago did her stomach surgery. It may have been a misdiagnosis or unnecessary in the first place and I never knew them that well and they certainly don't know me that well even now. They are relying on old information about me for some reason. My mother's main doctor is Dr. Pretoria. I never have seen Dr. Pretoria for anything or I did maybe once to refill my Atarax prescription but I also saw a Dr. Wendy Seine there because of general adjustment difficulties and stress of moving back home again that wasn't well followed up. I may remember Dr. Seine as a classmate from EGOS where she took word processing classes not medical science classes. That strikes me as a little unprofessional and unreliable and not a good thing especially in later years. I thought I could have trusted her or she thought she knew me also when we just passed one another in the hallways and she could have been relying on old information about me also. It is all a little frightening and unprofessional and a one way street without much hope for me. They obviously never knew me that well and I didn't know them well either. I wanted to see Dr. Pretoria in his clinic when I first moved back home with my mother but they refused to take me as a new patient even though I said I was her daughter and self-pay. I don't know if it was an honest mix up and the records weren't transferred correctly or someone denied and ignored the truth of where I had been and what had been happening for 20 years or more and decided to label and use me one more time or not. They weren't supposed to do that and it would have been a violation of privacy if they did. I was trying to get off medication all together and get off welfare, Section 8 Housing, Medicaide and Medicare and Atarax was originally prescribed by Dr. Gopta Sen, the last doctor I saw at MHCD, Freedom Street Clinic. I would have been self pay at Pretoria's clinic and they knew that but then said they couldn't accept me because I was still on welfare and Medicaide. Dr. Pretoria is supposedly good with diabetes patients but I've never been able to discuss anything with him or his staff concerning my mother. I was expecting Dr. Pretoria's clinic to be more helpful and concerned or knowledgeable about my predicament years ago since they claimed to know my mother and she had been going to Dr. Pretoria for years. They never helped me very much and weren't very nice or polite or honest when I needed them. My mother still sees them to this day but I don't like them and that has created problems between us over the years. Apparently Dr. Pretoria's office knows nothing about the unanswered questions and turmoil he has created for my mother and I or they don't want to talk about it for some reason. We sometimes have been left hanging and then had to explain it to other counselors, cops and paramedics over the years. I find that very unprofessional and demeaning and life threatening for all of us. I wish it would had been handled better or differently starting many years ago. I have since found another family physician I can trust and have a better rapport with.
Patty and Margaret