Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I got an automated message an hour ago saying that my telemedicine appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow had been cancelled. I poked at MyChart, which identified the reason for cancellation as "provider," and saw that I couldn't use MyChart to book a new appointment with that doctor.

So, I waited a few minutes, then picked up the phone, dialed the appropriate number, and told the switchboard "outpatient psychiatry, please." I have no idea why that's the most effective way to call that office, but it is, and is so noted in my contacts list. I was pleasantly surprised to be offered a choice of tomorrow or Friday, and then of morning or afternoon. So, that was nice and simple, and I'm pleased I had the spoons to treat this as "call soon, I think they close at 4:30" rather than putting it off and hoping I'd hear from them about rescheduling.

All my appointments with this doctor have been and will continue to be telemedicine; she doesn't even have an office in Massachusetts. This is definitely a pandemic-related change, and I don't know whether it would be possible elsewhere in the United States. In an ideal universe, I would have the option of in-person, unmasked psychiatry appointments. In this universe, having tried both, Zoom without masks was better than in-person with, and I wouldn't have taken an unmasked appointment in the doctor's office if it had been offered.

In the elevator today, we met a neighbor I basically like (she used to play cello for cats [1] and now teaches elementary school), and I asked her to witness me signing my donor card, along with cattitude.

I've also made sure that both cattitude and my mother (who would be my next of kin after him) know, and agree with my choice. (My other partners also know and agree—I know at least one of them is also signed up—but they're not legally recognized as kin for this purpose. Still, if the idea bothered either of them, I'd have discussed it further before going ahead.)

It's a small thing. No. That's not it. When it has any effect, it's a large one, but a lot more people sign organ donor cards than become donors after they die. For me, it's an easy thing to have done: it didn't take much time, and it costs me and my family/heirs nothing at all. [I say "for me" because I know there are people with religious concerns connected to this, but none of those who might be affected by my decision found it problematic.]

I'm doing this for strangers, but I'm doing it in memory of Mike (John M. Ford), and to pay forward the anonymous stranger who left him a kidney.

[1] Actually, she played cello for Cats: she was in the orchestra for the musical, but even long-running musicals close eventually.

I have signed up with the New York State Organ and Tissue Donor Registry, which can be done online (assuming you have a state driver's license or non-driver ID and identify with one of the two standard genders). I'll sign the back of the state ID as soon as I have two people handy to act as witnesses, rather than ask someone to "witness" a pre-existing signature.

Given that they require the state ID number on the form, I wonder if they take people out of the registry if their licenses or IDs expire without being renewed, or if their driver's licenses are suspended.