Saturday, January 28, 2017

It's Complicated

I have a complicated relationship with the city of Milwaukee. I'm here this weekend for Lawrence University's annual Great Midwest Trivia Contest; the irony is not lost on me: I live approximately 12-15 miles from the Lawrence campus, yet I travel approximately 104 miles one-way to participate in their trivia game held the final weekend of January for the past 52 years. I obviously haven't participated in 52 "Trivia Weekends", but that's just putting things into perspective. I capitalize the T and W because for me and my Drunk Appleton Cop friends, it's like an official holiday. My first Trivia Weekend was 1988, my junior year of high school.

I could write an entire blog on Trivia Weekends alone, but this is about Milwaukee and my relationship with the city I called home from 1994 to 2002.

You know that saying, "the more things change, the more they stay the same"? That kind of describes how I view Milwaukee from a 500 foot view: the Marquette Interchange has been torn apart and reconstructed and it really hasn't solved the massive traffic delays that happen there Monday through Friday. Now the Zoo Interchange and the 894 Bypass are being torn apart and appear to be a long way from being reconstructed. I will admit when I was driving through that part of the city on Friday evening at around 4:50pm, the back-ups weren't as horrible as expected. Usually, once you get to the North Ave. exits, traffic stops for whatever reason, then slowly meanders until the Hales Corners Interchange and it frees up a little which was basically what happened on Friday. I can never figure out what it is about the area around the North Ave. exits that prompts the massive slow-down. It doesn't matter which direction you're heading in or if it's morning or evening rush hour, there is just a natural hang-up there. Now that's something the DOT should look into.

When I'm here for Trivia, I don't spend much time trolling old haunts on the north-side, where I spent most of the time I lived here. I made it as far west as 53rd and Galena which was a great neighborhood. My second favorite only to the last place I lived, the Orthodox Jewish neighborhood north of St. Joe's Hospital around 50th & Burleigh.  The Kosher Meat Market has the best corned beef on rye with Swiss cheese EVER, even if it's not kosher.

So what's so complicated? Although I only spent 8 years living here, it was such a formative time in whom I would become as an individual and as a woman. My experiences during those 8 years are enough to last a lifetime, trust me. Those of you who traveled that path with me, or have heard me talk about it, know that I was married to my first husband when I moved here for a job that required "skills" close enough to those I learned majoring in Women's Studies. I didn't plan on staying in Appleton when I came back from Boston and Milwaukee, being the largest city in the state, seemed like an appealing option. In those 8 years after moving here I had an affair with my boss which "gave" me the confidence to divorce my first husband and for him to divorce his second wife. Our relationship lasted a little more than three years which included the divorces; moving into his swanky home on a private lake in Waukesha County; financial excess which a doctor's salary afforded us; a 2 carat diamond engagement ring; two or three weeks of 24 hour protection from US Marshalls after he was listed on a national "hit list" of doctors who provided certain health care services to women; him reconciling with his parents after 7 years of not speaking to them which sparked a couple of trips to visit them in the western part of the country (I don't want to provide too much identifying information about him whom I affectionately [SARCASM] refer to as Dr. Dick in such circumstances, so I'll just use that reference moving forward); wearing a Kevlar vest to work once we were officially out as a couple to our coworkers; harassment at local stores  and protests in front of our house by those who put his name on that hit list and didn't agree with how he practiced medicine; and both of us becoming drug addicts which lead to a whole host of new and terrifying experiences.

In brief those included: taking drugs from the office home and using together (how romantic, again sarcasm); treatment for us both; being greeted at the office by (ironically) two US Marshalls, someone from the US Dept of Justice, and a small but loud woman from the WI Medical Board all demanding to see the office's narcotics logs which had been in disarray for months; the office closing; unemployment; stigma and shame; professional consequences for him that I only really understood upon becoming a state professional license holder myself in 2014; the end of our relationship; me selling the engagement ring and spending one kick-ass week by myself in Paris (that was actually a natural progression of healing and breaking ties for me, and it is the BEST vacation I've ever had!); meeting with the DOJ and DEA almost exactly six months after our relationship ended and one week after I returned from Paris - they had been monitoring us both and decided that if I sold the ring and went to France, the relationship was likely beyond reconciliation and of course they were right.

My insanely expensive criminal defense attorney, #2 in the state behind the attorney Dr. Dick retained I've been told, and I met with the Feds for six hours of interrogation on a cloudy Tuesday in April 1997 with one 20 minute break at my request. I was fingerprinted and have an official file at the FBI. (I don't know what an unofficial file at a federal agency would be, so I apologize for pointing out the obvious). At the time I thought I was providing them with all sorts of information they didn't know about him, about us, but my therapist at the time told me I likely didn't tell them anything they didn't already know, which helped assuage my guilt about talking with them. I do believe I surprised them with a few things, but nothing of real significance. When push came to shove, I was out to save my own ass rather than protect his out of some sense of misplaced devotion. Thank God I wasn't that codependent or who knows how the hell this mess may have turned out.

It's approaching 20 years since my last contact with federal officials of any sort, which is a good thing. I went on to spend five years clean in Milwaukee, continued working for a local hospital's outpatient clinics and got promoted to Clinic Coordinator which is one of the best jobs I've had. I had a great group of young women who reported to me and became some of my closest friends here. I worked hard and was rewarded for it. At work people higher up the food chain respected me, which is an amazing feeling after the paranoid thoughts that everyone at the  mall somehow "knew" about my drug addiction and legal consequences while simply shopping for Christmas gifts five years prior.

I made peace with the type of work I was involved with when working for Dr. Dick many years ago, which surprised me, actually. At the time I was naive and young enough to believe that there were no regrets in life. I've grown up a lot since then and until recently, refused to have regrets in life, telling people I've made mistakes, but I regret nothing. That's simply not true. I do have regrets, hundreds of them, but I've made peace with the majority of them. Some I still carry, which complicates my relationship with this city. A woman's heart truly is a deep ocean of secrets...and regrets.

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