Humor In A Lab Coat

Although I said I would not blog here until I fixed myself, even in the brokenness, sometimes there is humor that even I see. Such is an email I sent to my sister today. It may have more information than you need about me, but you don't actually know me, so the information will be for a faceless blogger in a world full of bloggers.

If you don't find it as funny as I did as I was writing this, it is fine. I just thought I would share.


"OMG, this is too long to text – in my opinion – so I am emailing you. Do you hate doctors like I hate doctors?? Yes – you do, so you will completely understand my snotty sarcasm about this ordeal. 

Last Saturday, Skeet & I were sitting in a restaurant for lunch when a pain of immense magnitude took over my lower left body. Kind of like a I was being stabbed from my left front butt cheek (What is the name of that thing?) up at a sideways angle. The pain gave me hot flashes, chills, nausea, and the need to pee. I went to the bathroom and went #1 (which totally shocked Skeet because I NEVER go to the bathroom in a public place - so he KNEW something was really wrong with me), but the pain remained  - as did the need to pee. It subsided a little Saturday afternoon, but the general hurt and need to pee did not. I still hurt on Sunday, so thinking it was a UTI, I went to the doctor Monday morning. I got poked and prodded and violated (J) in the girly way and had a urine test and a blood test and all manner of things and they found NOTHING.  

So my doctor said that it could be diverticulitis (up until that day I thought diverticulitis was a blanket diagnosis that doctors used when people had pain, they didn’t know what it was, couldn’t figure it out and generally thought the patient was nuts – I know better now because I Googled it), a hernia (from what – lifting a cat?), a kidney stone (ouch!), or a problem with an ovary (Really? A dead shriveled lima bean sized object in my body that hasn’t served a purpose in 10 years?) and that to further diagnose me I should probably have a CT scan. They could do an ultra sound, but it would not show ALL the possibilities that my problem could stem from and a CT scan would. 

My mind instantly went to the fact that those things cost hundreds of dollars that I don’t have. But I was hurting SO bad, I meekly agreed, throwing caution and cost to the wind. I was told that they would have to pre-cert it and then schedule the scan and then they would give me a call with the appointment date. I figured a couple of hours to do that tops – or if they were slow, I would hear from them the next morning. I was sure they would hurry, after I knew the drill because I had worked in a doctors office for 10 years - AND because they knew I was in PAIN.

Remember – I went to the doctor Monday morning, September 14^th. I got the call today – Thursday September 17^th . THREE & ½ days later with the wonderful news that my appointment had been scheduled for – wait for it – Wednesday September 23^rd! What the fuck. 

Good thing it really wasn’t something deadly like my ruptured colon spewing toxins into my system (but it may be – we just don’t know!). I will either be well by next Wednesday – or I will be dead. 

P.S. Also during this time I went cold turkey on using chapstick. Watch out world I have pain going on everywhere!!!! 

P.P.S. Love you, mean it!"

So friends, this time if I really don't ever post again, you will know that my doctor did not get the CT scan done in time to save me...stupid doctors. 

But if I do - you can credit the old saying that what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger. I must be Herculean by now...

Not Finished Yet Apparently

Have you ever noticed that the universe sometimes has a way to tell you to get over yourself, pick up your big girl panties and just get on with it?

Just as I posted I am done for a while and about how my uncle and his PMA was a load of crap; suddenly a song I have never heard of pops up out of the most unlikely of places and tells me that my uncle was NOT the only person who believes in this mind set.

I still don't believe I have it in me to just switch my mind to 'Happy' any more than I can quit my job and you have no idea how badly I would like to quit working, but for a few minutes this made me smile at the coincidence of finding it in the exact moment when I gave up. Maybe I am the one that is wrong.

Interesting. Enjoy!

Maurice Chevalier: "Sweeping the Clouds Away" from "Paramount on Parade" (1930)  

https://www.youtube.com/embed/4AWElH-07mI

Silence of the Fall

I have been silent for so long now, you probably have forgotten that I even blog. 

I initially started this blog in an effort to help me convince myself that you can talk yourself into being happy. My uncle harped to me most of my life about PMA – Positive Mental Attitude. He believed that all you had to do was chant that mantra and all would be right with the world and if you said it enough and believed it hard enough you would be happy.

That is bullshit.

That is the same malarkey that the so called ‘Name It & Claim It’ preachers preach on TV. All they name or claim is your money.

I can’t make myself be happy any more than I can make myself be a cat just by believing it so.

Now, funny is funny and I do see things with a slant toward the humorous, but it is a cover. A mask I have worn for so long that I do not know the difference between myself and the mask anymore.

I am in a very dark place now. Darker than my usual place and I just don’t feel like pretending anymore.

So, as a last ditch effort, here is post that I hope will hold you over until I feel well enough again to write.

Fall:

I have been out of work for a couple of days. Now, that makes me happy – but I was not happy about the reason I was out.

I fell and apparently if you are over 50, you should not try to refill a hummingbird feeder, open a glass door and hold it open while trying to step over a dog as you are going down brick stairs. The cement managed to stop my fall immediately. And you thought cement was only for walkways. Who knew that it could save you from total destruction?

It definitely was not something fun enough to do again, but I did get to call in sick for a few days!

Yay, cement!

High Anxiety - Not The Movie

I always thought I was ‘sheltered.’ I avoided crowds, parties, new situations, untraversed places, even vending machines because I thought of myself as ‘shy’ and was unable to feel comfortable with things that were new to me. An unfamiliar gas station could almost send me into a panic and when I was close to an empty tank I always hoped & prayed that I could just squeeze a few more miles out of it so that maybe I could get to a station I knew and pump my gas with sheer abandon! I thought I was young. I thought I was inexperienced. I thought it was all a part of growing up. I thought it was NORMAL.

Apparently it is not.

There is a diagnosis for it. But back then I didn’t know what it was.

As I matured, my ‘shyness’ did not diminish. But it did not intensify either. It was just always there – in the background – screaming, “Don’t use that vending machine! You will regret it!” “No! Don’t stop THERE – you have never been THERE before.” “Punch your decorative throw pillow!” “That Taco Bell might be different than the last one – don’t go in!”

Now I am old and my affliction has reared its ugly head with abandon.

The ‘shyness’ was, shall we say, a misdiagnosis on my part. I had/have/has/did/done/do an ‘anxiety disorder.’ It is now full on, balls to the walls, non-stop, want to scream like a monkey 95% of the time – anxiety – and I am proud to say that I have the medication to prove it.

I am speaking of this today because I am in an unfamiliar situation (which is a polite way of saying that I am currently being screwed). Every few seconds I have to stop, breath, and remind myself that it is ok. Calm down.

I never thought I would get to a place in my life when I looked forward to taking ANY medication! But, ahhh, those sweet yellow pills.

Does anyone else need one? I have one more refill left until my new medical plan kicks in and they start charging a prescription deductible. Yay, a monetary reason to take one of my pills!

So many reasons….so few pills….does anyone remember the acronym you are supposed to use that alerts you to the signs of a person having a stroke?

Just wondering.

 

Curve Balls

Has anyone noticed that life throws the most inappropriate curve balls at the worst possible

time and we are expected to take our 3 swings, get called out, and then just get on with

the game. That shit is ridiculous.

Auto Freaking Correct

Auto Coorect Connect Coral CORRECT Dammit

The title above is really what I wanted to title this post, but either blogger.com doesn't want bloggers to put a strike through in the title or I am just too stupid to figure out how to do it. Probably the latter is the correct statement. I probably shouldn't cuss in the title either. I probably shouldn't do A LOT of things I do.

The previous paragraph had nothing to do with what I wanted to post. I have no idea why I feel I have to explain myself all the time. That is probably one of those things I shouldn't do.

I love my iPhone, but have this love/hate relationship with its auto correct feature.

Today's sampling:

 Today 8:47 AM             

My breakfast fig bar                            

was almost all bar and                           

no dog                                                   

                    

 

                          Dog bars?
 

Crap, Autocorrect made                      

fig doc for some reason                      

 

                          Now we are taking the
                         fig bars to a physician? 

SHIT!                 

 

I love my iPhone, but have this love/hate relationship with its auto correct feature.

 

And can anyone tell me where in the world I can find whether the word auto correct is supposed to be autocorrect or auto correct. Stupid freaking auto correct.

Late Night Thoughts

I have been a 'boss' or 'manager' and I have been an 'underling'. A.K.A = peon. 

Having been an 'underling' early on, I learned that should I ever become a 'boss', one of the major things I would do is to make sure that the 'underlings' understood that - while they were not me - the 'BOSS' - they were valued and appreciated for the job that they did. 

As a 'boss' I went out of my way to 'make it so' (Trekkie anyone?). I believed in transparency and honesty and communication with those I commanded. I believed in 'mental health days', and let my 'underlings' know that I did. I believed vacation days and sick days were not just days to build up and get paid for when you leave - but were days to use. I understood that there were days they just could not make it to work - for no real reason - they just didn't want to be at work (i.e. see aforementioned mental health days). The 'underlings' loved me and my work ships always ran smoothly. Mostly because my employees knew I always had their back.

But I grew tired of the 'boss' status. Actually, I grew tired of the 37 moves and 24/7 job demands. When once again I became a 'boss' on move 38, it had worn out its significance.

I just wanted to do my 8 am - 5 pm job and go home. So I took a job with the title - but no real power. Great idea you say - I say what a mistake.

I see the things I used to do for 'underlings' (a.k.a peon - a.k.a now ME) not being done. I live through things I would have NEVER done to those under me.

I want to scream daily. But days in the employment arena are so different. Everyone is 'expendable.' Or so those in power believe and I suppose in the end game - are.

It is sad. It makes me unbelievably sad.

The employment world falls apart all around us because 'degrees' matter more than 'experience' and no one in power seems to understand that just a kind word or a small show of appreciation would mean so much to those under them. This 'antiquated' idea is not in their purview.

Those in charge now assume they are better and smarter than those of my age. We who have been there before. We now stand beside them mute, because they don't care what we have learned during our years of 'experience.' They are sure they are smarter because they have multiple college degrees.

They may be younger and have degrees, but they aren't smarter.

If they only knew what appreciation and loyalty shown to those below them would bring out in those working under their supposed 'leadership.' You don't learn those skills in college - by gaining degrees. If they only knew that just because they have multiple degrees, those degrees do not help them understand what motivates those they oversee.

I know what is lacking, but I don't have multiple degrees and probably in the workforce I am a dinosaur. So I am dismissed.

But I know how to lead. I have been there. I have been successful.

If they only cared to ask...