Today we are going thru the last of our old notes with our psych as we attempt to find some truth in the smoke and mirrors stories we were told. Last week we hacked thru a forest of GP notes to whittle out perhaps a dozen sheets that were actually relevant. Today’s envelope is much slimmer than the GP notes but at the same time thicker than we had anticipated. We have no idea what is inside, we haven’t looked. The envelope is from the police, who, for a small fee, will provide copies of whatever information they have concerning you – as a victim, a witness, a suspect, a convicted criminal, whatever. It will, presumably, be heavily redacted. It probably won’t be an easy read. So our psych is coming to us – a short notice change of location that we’re hugely grateful for because it would be just our luck to lose the envelope between here and there or have our bag stolen or get hit by a bus or something. We went over our GP notes at home too, for the same reason. They threw up more questions than answers, revealed things we had no knowledge of, and were also missing an awful lot of very basic records – a sign of the times, a lax GP, or something more sinister? We will probably never know. So that’s today. The envelope is untouched on the side, we have plenty of tea and coffee, there’s a box of tissues placed ready. By this afternoon we may finally have some facts that we can hold on to.
And we’ve been thru the notes. Lots of facts/answers, a few questions, and the new knowledge that we were once – possibly briefly – known by another name aside from our birth name, married name and current name. Back to see our psych on Friday, and until then I’ll be on the doorstep with a brew and a smoke.