September 25, 2019:

Borrowed my mother's insurance card without her knowledge. Rode my bike across the canyon, met with a new GP I'd found myself by asking the medical association for a referral to a young doctor just starting his practice. I wanted someone I was able to talk to.

Tetracycline: I insisted and he relented. He was concerned by the low incidence of liver damage. Where "concerned" means transparently scared as fuck. I suppose he didn't want one of his first patients croaking at age seventeen.

When my face cleared my mother apologized. "I didn't know," she said. I think I thought, Did you ask? But probably did not say it aloud.

Several details of this experience interest me. The kindness of beautiful golden Cynthia, the minister's daughter, who generously educated me to the existence of antibiotics. My determination to take things into my own hands, an early example of self-reliance going beyond rebellion into resolution. My mother's apology, which borders on acknowledging passivity might not have been the best option in every circumstance.