To Reunion or not to Reunion, that is the question

The company logo was an English bobby for some strange reason

There’s a big reunion, still in the planning stages, for all us folks who worked at a BIG, locally owned, print and copy company. The place was seriously special – while the pay was crap, us worker bees had a lot of opportunity to grow while still playing in bands, painting, sculpting and writing our great novels. Yup, a LOT of creative types got hired.

The reunion was sparked by the terminal cancer diagnosis of a fellow alumnus of the joint (who i knew in passing). I’d really like to go BUT….

What would I say now to the Human Resources manager that I worked under just before my sound system went utterly kaput.

Ya see, this was the man who gave me incredibly condescending shit when I expressed even the slightest, calm concern over the very real symptoms of my upcoming deafening. He always made it abundantly clear that he felt I was being hyperbolically melodramatic.

He told me an in depth story of a cousin of his who had it MUCH worse than me. After all I still had hearing (a bit, in just one ear, but enough to fake it). And, after all, post spinal surgery I hadn’t lost my legs or ALL feeling from the tits down. So, WHAT was I whining and complaining about?!

What did he need in order to believe that I had/have a serious disease. That at 45, I was, amongst other things, on the verge of deafness from one of the giant and astoundingly real tumors in my brain. Oh and, unexpectedly, I lost half my vision for 6 months after that particular surgery too.

Should I have been disconsolately down 24/7? Should I have NOT gone out to see/hear bands at every opportunity? Should I not have taken advantage of every last bit of hearing while I still could? Maybe I should have shown him all my surface tumors (normally hidden under my clothes)? Then I could’ve said “I got a dozen more of those inside my brain – wanna see my MRIs?”

Would he have believed me then?

Maybe belief wasn’t the issue at all. Though he was the manager of Human Resources (so SOME small level of compassion and HUMANITY was assumed) maybe he just couldn’t gin up a scintilla of interest or concern – not even an obvs faux, Republi/Fascist “thoughts and prayers.” 

Did he just dislike me that much? I know I’m not everyone’s cuppa but SHEESH.

The more I think on this reunion, the more I’m finding that going really isn’t a grand idea for me. There are folks from my worktime there who I’d LOVE to see again. Ya know, besides the one I married and got widowed by. Besides the one, gone now, who I counted as bestie for 20 years. Besides Sean. Besides my housemates of the past 20 years. 

The HR Failure isn’t the only alumni I’d cross six lane highway at rush hour to avoid. Are these miscreants, who I wouldn't waste spit on, enough to keep me from going to the party? No but, given the whole deafness dealio, the impossibly of lipreading in large group (party!) situations, I’m thinking that selective, individual reunions might be a better way to go.