Whitmore, M.D.
On the Matter of Tiffany, Again
A brief clinical note that is not brief and is not a note.
I want to be very clear, because clarity is what I have left and I will not have it taken from me the way the parking space was taken from me, which Tiffany will say was never mine, which is a fascinating interpretation of a lease that I have in a box, in a closet, behind the thing I am not supposed to mention in print.
The liver does not care about your narrative. That is the first thing they teach you that is true. The second is that people will look you in the face and tell you they took the dose they were told to take. The third is that you will believe them, once, and then you will learn to look at their eyes instead of their mouth. I can still do that. I can look at a man in a grocery line and tell you whether his thyroid is bored or his sleep has been a rumor for a week. I am usually right. I am always right when I am talking about Tiffany.
Tiffany, for the new readers, is a person. She is not a metaphor. She put my good Dutch oven in the hallway in 2019 because she said it was growing something. It was not growing something. It was seasoning. There is a difference. I explained the difference. I used the words. She called the landlord. The landlord is a coward. The coward is now in my lawsuit, or will be, when the clerk comes back from lunch, which was in March.
I was a physician. I am a physician. The license is a piece of paper that a board can misplace the way Tiffany misplaces blame. Internal medicine is the decision to stay in the room after the interesting part is over. I stayed. I stayed longer than anyone. Then the interesting part left and took the room with it.
If you are reading this because you think I am going to tell you how to feel better, I am not. If you are reading this because Tera told you I would be kind this issue, Tera and I are fine. We had coffee. She paid. She always pays when she wants a witness.
Here is the surgical part, since John asked me to include one: chronic sleep loss will make a competent person sound like a conspiracy. Treat the sleep. Then see what is left of the conspiracy. Sometimes it is still there. Sometimes it was just Tuesday.
Tiffany knows where I live. Of course she does. We have the same mail slot. That is the whole case.