Archive for the ‘Head Injury’ Category


I think I’ve used that before.  When things have gone sideways, pear shaped, become frozen, completely imploded, people have been stalking me, I’ve been stalking me and many other things.

Here’s a new one.  I’m now visually impaired to some degree, so forget using my Mac.  Even tiny mobile screens can become brutal. 

“Visually Impaired?” you ask.

Modus diagnosis operandi is Continual Migraines.  Shrapnel in my brain, from being admitted to hospital for a Stroke.  That was a year ago.  Except it wasn’t a Stroke.  It just sure as hell looked like one!

So it was probably a TIA then.  They can present almost exactly the same way.  The primary distinction is no damage or insults to the brain, whereas a Stroke generally shows something when you look at any/all parts of it.

Plus YOU can show a lot after a Stroke.

Well, my brain’s been insulted a lot.  By seizures, falls, people telling me I’m stupid, and yes, prior migraines.  However, this is a different braingame.  Too much.

Migraines can mimic Strokes and TIA’s so I probably didn’t have one of those either.  It was “The Migraine Heard Around the World.”

I’m not kidding.  I’ve been through a lot of funky medical experiences but this? It was beyond belief.  Surreal.  My head really did explode.  Okay, it didn’t but at the time…you get it.  And my eyes.  Psychedelic and black vision.

Try to imagine that.

Now, blurry, photophobia, pain cognitive impairment.  So, sunglasses, don’t push using my eyes, dimenhydrinate, new med (Beta-blocker Propranolol) and cane. 

Now back to my Blog after that fun stuff.

This whole Blog has turned to shit.  I honestly think this is the lowest of the low.  It’s never been as bad as this.

I don’t have the imagination to imagine conjuring a beginning to begin fixing it.  Much less time.  The first thing would be my Blogroll. 

How many old and dead Blogs are lined up there like ratty, teenage socks, hanging out to dry but they’ll always reek? No doubt more than I already know.

Then, replacements.  I’ve met so many great people with amazing Blogs out there.  However, due to “Technical Errors” (i.e. I’m a fucking idiot) I never filed them along with my others.

“Look and Feel?” Oh, bloody hell.  Just the thought of it makes me feel nauseous.  And since I’m sick I’m already nauseous!

The plopping of my current template into (better said ONTO) another template can make you want to heave, simply by looking at it.  Run away horrified too.

Eventually. Hopefully.

I haven’t shut everything thing down after so many easy (and difficult) situations.  That must mean something.  Perhaps the fact, that it’s actually not the lowest of low after all.

Yet?

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Just mentioned on Twitter that I’ve got WP back up and running on my mobile. Hopefully more Posts soon?

I’m just starting Propranolol.  Been a month now and the side effects are kicking my ass off.  However, in a good way? Like I’m trippin’ out on significant levels of Opiates.

I’m still feeling pretty gonzo with my second dose.  I’m 40mg bid now. NOTE: Update Meds Page.

Later.  It can wait.  I took my second dose not long ago.

Why Propranolol? Based upon a fairly educated guess, I’m now dealing with chronic migraines.  It can be used for prevention.  Maybe kicked off from when I had every sign of a Stroke, and was chucked into hospital last summer.

Wow! This is a bit of a Post! Writing it when I feel like I’m in between being on Morphine and Heroin.

Not that I’ve done Heroin.  Am I spelling it correctly? Have I slept with a Heroine? Do I need one? Holy crap! Damn straight I do! *laughing*

No, I’ve just talked to people who have used it and what it was like for them; what they experienced.  Did I ever find out what some people can experience!

Utterly fascinating! I realized why so many people could become addicted to it.

I’ll also say it’s utterly fascinating why I’m getting stoned out my mind.  Well, it is to me because I really get off on Pharmacokinetics.

I’ve gone through every med I take and found the answer. Plus extra stuff which is just icing on the cake.

Super-awesome Post to write, but hells bells no, not now!  I can’t even handle this screen anymore.

Laters…


Although it has not been scientifically proven, Bedbugs do not cause headaches.  However, they do cause an allergic reaction through biting.  Or, rather by infusion and extraction.  It’s really interesting but it can totally suck.  Because I get bitten like crazy.

They have two dastardly needles to stab you in sequence.  The first is an anaesthetic; the second is then used to draw your blood.

Quite compassionate little Vampires? I think not!

So I’m starting to unpack some things in between doing my regular laundry and all of the clothes in my closet (which had to be done on the day of the TWO times of Pesticide Treatment.)

Well, the closet I couldn’t get done.  I have a cane and very much needed now for some mysterious head injury.  I was told I could do my closet within my own suitable time frame because I’m sick–from that and more.

And yet, I still can’t fathom ANYONE doing all of that!

I’m not a Clothes Whore (am I?) Well, I have a lot of nice stuff but if you’re Jewish, I also have a lot of schmatte.  So, okay.  I’m a Clothes Whore to some degree. 

Fine.  I’ll admit to “Labels” too.

Back to unpacking.  For Treatment, put a lot of items in big garbage bags where Bedbugs might be hiding out.  However, only certain things.  This didn’t make any sense to me at all.

Why shove my suitcase that was in my closet, and not a big box of photographs, wide open, in the corner of a room? The corner was dark.  My suitcase was closed up tight.

ARGH!!!!!!

Which brings us to tonight.  I had to bag two Bankers Boxes that were completely falling apart, full of documents.  Now do you get the photos in the corner of the room idea?

Well, I have to unpack everything, so just like moving? Time to get rid of a lot of junk! Although I knew it would be a disaster…  Bedbugs? Paper? Boxes nearly disintegrating?

I went out and bought a Paper Shredder, new Bankers Boxes, and let the fun begin! No fun.

I had to buy the cheapest Shredder and it can get jammed after about seven or eight pages! The bucket looks pretty big, but maybe “Spatially Challenged Me” somehow doesn’t “Get It.”

Or the Shredder is minutely, minute.  A few sheets in, dump.  A few sheets in…

But I think I “released” some of those pricks.  Pun intended.

Bedbugs like blood.  They’re drawn to it.  Which is lovely when I have my period and THEY HAVE ME!!!  I have to be so careful.

The Shredder doesn’t like any airborne (or other types) of chemicals.  Oh, okay.  I have black bags everywhere, nowhere to sit, how and…?

It became a combination of construction and surgery.

I had to block off all the white powder with bags to keep it from floating around? They like blood.  Medical procedure gloves for paper cuts! A pair of tweezers and a little plastic container of water.

That last part? I know.  Definitely, Dr. PA.  Catch anything that might fall and plop!

That’s another secret to tell.  If there are any problems with your mattresses and you’ve stripped away all of your sheets and bagged them too? Vacuum, as well?

If you have patience and a good eye?

I did the above but things didn’t “look” right.  I saw very tiny black, spots that weren’t fluff or dust.  Then a little RED one!

I started squishing them with my hands but that just resulted in more bites.  Enter the (soon to be patented) “Tweezer Invention!”

Going through the paper, trying to catch stuff, it’s stirred something up.  I’ve got some bites on my hand and wrist.  But even after the Professional Treatment, they said to expect activity for a few days.

ARGH!!!!!!

Don’t tell the neighbours.


I mentioned on Twitter that it might, might be time for me to hang up my Blogging Hat.  Or, to say stop my Blogging Hands.  That would be more appropriate.

It’s not an ongoing, forever-we-experience, Blogging Crisis.  It’s not Writer’s Block.  I could think of many things to write about.

Things have changed.  Some that are easy(ier) to explain, some I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try.  Some I don’t even know if I can explain to me!

My Blog has been up for nine years.  I don’t know how long any measurement that means.  In terms of living, averages of any kind, but that’s pretty irrelevant, I think.

I mentioned the word, “living.”

Are Blogs really living entities? I believe the answer is a very firm, no.  We MAKE them living entities.

I made an analogy on Twitter as well, regarding the “feelings” between both my Blog and me, as a person.  I said, “I feel like I have phantom limb pain.”

It’s true.  Something has been severed.  The “living entity” I have created, that which was so connected to me…  It’s not anymore…  But to what degree, and even what part of my body, I do not know…yet.

Despite still writing a bit more, I have been tremendously unhappy with my Blog.  The beginning of things being severed? There were times I couldn’t even look at it.  Now, things seem so, terribly disjointed and I can’t fix them.

I definitely don’t expect you to understand that last sentence!

Does reading my Blog make me cry? *laughing* Of course not! It’s my life!

Thinking about my life might make me cry, but my entire life isn’t on my Blog.

The only times I’ve cried reading my Blog was years ago.  I would receive these Comments from utter strangers.  They would pour their hearts out to me and tell me I literally saved their lives.

I would sit and bawl my eyes out.  Why me? Who am I? I didn’t say anything? It took a LONG time to respond to people like that! But they were few.  I’m not being egotistical.

I write a lot about having no life.  Well, I do.  We all do.  Perhaps not as we’d always like it, but you can’t escape the fact.

How many hours have I Blogged, read other Blogs, spent time on Twitter when that came along later.  How about all day and all night?

At the time it felt just fine.  Really? Not so really. 

That’s not healthy.  I mean, for me it isn’t.  It’s an unhealthy escape.  Too easy to muck about when I need to focus on getting myself at least somewhat together.  Also, that “somewhat” is just a start.

How long has it been since I really got into my own writing? I mean really got into it? I have SO many unfinished projects, I haven’t sent any Submissions to anyone in ages. *sighs*

Am I done? I sure feel done.  This Post has been exhausting to write.  Difficult, too.  Don’t cry, PA!

*teardrops*

But for now, I’m still here.  I haven’t made a final decision. 

Maybe Dr. PA can perform some surgery on both sides; to mend herself and reattach what she brought to life and into this world.


Went out tonight.  Getting ready to leave.  This one guy I know through association from a friend (they work together) was there.  So, yeah.  Nice guy, and we got on well too.

Another guy I’ve known for a few years got into this game about, “Which one wanted to go out with me more?” A totally stupid game as one of them was married!

Enter, THIS FUCKING BITCH.

Now, I had tried to be nice to her since Day One.  She was sometimes on, sometimes off.

I’d like to say she’s a total, MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH.  In fact, I will.

So, nice guy by association and, well, MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH pulled this bizarre “thing” recently.

We were sitting at the bar, I had my sunglasses on for head-injury-photophobia, and nothing was happening.  Just silence, watching the TV, I’m not even close to him or saying a word to anyone.  Then, she snaps a picture of us on her mobile phone.

After done, begins howling MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH LAUGHTER! Almost like she was ready to fall off her barstool.  I asked if I could see it.  She showed it only to him.

I said I had littler things that I could care littler about.  I mean, what was MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH going to do? FB, Twitter, Instagram or whatever this “harmless” picture?

Please.

Well, tonight was a real topper!

Association-Dude-Small-Cock-Oedipal-Complex comes running over with some guy’s information on it.  He kept saying he’s looking for someone to date.  I should call him.  He’s really nice.

Perhaps I too loudly said, “WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CALL SOME STRANGER FOR A DATE, WHEN…”  At that point, I was interrupted.

“Well, can I give him your information!”

I think I might have shrieked back? I’m not sure.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CALL SOME STRANGER FOR A DATE AND YOU GIVING HIM MY INFORMATION? THAT’S SO FUCKING INSANE! THERE IS NO WAY I WOULD GIVE OUT MY PERSONAL INFORMATION TO A TOTAL STRANGER! EVEN YOU ASKING IS JUST PLAIN RUDE!”

I like the fact that I actually brought up proper manners at the end of my tirade.  What can I say? *shrugs*  I have proper manners.

Then MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH starts screaming, “He’s got lots of money!

And the massive laughter continues…until she lays another one on me: “Oh, are you crying???”

Snark back, with irritability and sarcasm: “No.  I’ve got my sunglasses on.”

BOLT.

Not without a traveller.  Highly illegal but my local does it.  I didn’t even have to pay because the guy working was pissed off too.

I’m close to the owner.  If ANYONE ever gives me a hassle they could be kicked out the door. 

I’m on the fence with this one.  Tell him about it? See if more shit happens?

I always take the high road.  Unless cornered? Which I certainly was tonight.  Now after thinking and calming down, I wish I could have handled things differently.

I felt like my Asperger’s was back in FULL BLOOM.  Like my entire life.  Looking back at everything.  Bullied since born. 

It still happens as an adult.  More times than this.  It makes me wonder, “Bullied until death?”


Hello Everyone,

It has indeed been a very long time since I have written anything on wee PAs Blog.  That is mostly in part, because it is my full time duty to take care of her.  And indeed again, she has not been very well, for a very long time.  In fact, after a rather long hiatus, she is now only beginning to write on her Blog again.

Earlier today, she decided it would be a good idea to try after so long, to clean up her Blog.  This, once again after several failed attempts.  She feels it is a:

“Goddamn piece of shit and a total mess.  A total disaster and so fucked up that it’s a surprise that anyone is reading it at all because it’s totally gone to hell just like her.”

Moreover:

“She can’t believe she’s been writing all of these Posts on it that just look like crusty sheep barf on a barbed wire fence.  Actually, she’s the one that should be covered her own barf every day, barf from everyone on the street, barf from everyone on Television and never, ever, ever be allowed to shower again.  If it rains, she should be bound in chains inside her apartment and have more barf poured over her in extra buckets because the rain will make her long desperately with every pathetic piece of tissue in her body for a shower.”

And finally:

“FUCK MY BLOG AND FUCK ME TOO!!!”

Oh, dear.  I think you can see that I have more on my flippers than I can handle right now?

I believe it best to remove wee PA from all forms of Technology now.  However, I might have to wrestle with her to stop clenched fists reaching for a mobile phone.  Seizing her Mac is easy enough. I will simply use my “Flipper-Slip” and slide it into the its case when she wanders away to do something else.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day to work on her Blog.  She might be more up to task.  Right now, I bet my stakes high it is certainly not a good time!

Oh.  Well, look what we have here? I am heaving a hugh sigh of relief! We are are currently experiencing a thunder storm with lightening.  Wee PA positively loves them.  This might make my job a lot easier.

 

 


They’re still working on getting me an appointment at the Stroke Management Clinic.  Which is fine.  Referrals can vary for time periods. 

Sometimes you have to appear sick by the Doctors, sometimes healthy by them, maybe be their best friend, or kiss lots of nurses in the “Paperwork Closet.”

Or just get lucky.  Apart from any Paperwork Closet Activity.

When I called yesterday, it turned out the paperwork hadn’t been sent.  This, from the (third now) hotel, the Ambulances have always chauffeured me to, and upon arrival, with great aplomb.  The Orderlies should be playing, “Pomp and Circumstance” EVERY time.

So the Stroking, I mean Striking Woman gave me the exact number to call at the other hotel, to have my Paperwork (Closeted or Otherwise) sent over to their hotel. 

Closeted or not Closeted?! Have we not moved past the Stone Age and given all of these people their Rights and Freedoms! Ho! Oh, Ho! Ho!

Is this sounding like a bad Monty Python Sketch yet? I’m doing my best.

The Paperwork was sent but it was basically end of day.  So, call back today.  I thought the Striking Woman would just give me an appointment as typically, all Medical Administration Assistants do.  But I received a nasty surprise.

“Okay, PA…I’ll put you through to Triage now…”  Click.

Okay.  Yes, when you are chauffeured to hotels you go through ER Triage.  Who is about to die? Who has cut their finger? Although, children are Triaged quite quickly and with great care.

Look up the word: IATROPHOBIA.

Never did I expect to be transferred to a person over the phone, to discuss my problems in any “Triage Manner.”  If ANYTHING, I thought they would Triage appointments based upon Doctor Reporting from the patient, the full examination, all workups, tests.

And boy did I have a FULL Neurological Exam! Things were done to me a million miles beyond so many basic ones I can do in my sleep!

At one point, he was testing my leg joints, mobility in different ways, and other reflexology–not just the “sit and tap the knee.”  Wait.  He did do that apart from all the others.  I just wasn’t sitting.

My legs were up in the air.  And there was no need for a woman in the room! I had my pants on.  But at one point, it was like a combination of two gentle forms of Shiatsu and Swedish.

ASIDE: I am addicted to Shiatsu.

The strangest Neurological question he asked, was the most bizarre I’ve ever heard.  Probably will remain so.

“If you comb or brush your hair, does it ever hurt? On one side of your head? Both? Nothing?”

Holy All the Elephants in Africa Pause! “Erm…maybe my right.  Yes, when it’s tangled? Yeah, my right.”

WHOA! HOLY MEMORY! I screamed like hell having my hair brushed and combed as a kid! What on earth does that mean?

Anyway, what does the title of this mean? I started to drift off into TIA Land on the phone with the Triage Guy.

God, we were almost coming to blows.  I have to warn EVERYONE new I talk to that I don’t mean to sound like a “Professional Patient.”  I’ve studied Medicine.  I was going to pursue a Career in Medicine.  It’s just that sometimes life doesn’t always go as planned.

I also said I was unprepared! I had to make a list of so many things! So much happens (in the back of my mind to argue against your pseudo-points!)

So, fine.  Conversation ending, then WHAM! I said right now, happening, told him what was going on.  Speech starting to slur, rambling, needed dark glasses immediately!

He said he’d let me go and rest.

But what timing. *sighs*

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Someone might be checking me out now.  Looking at my blog to find out more about me.  I’m not sure.

But that’s okay.  In fact, it’s great! I want you to know me!

However, if you are looking at my Blog and checking me out, know that I am SO much more than these words.

If you are reading, I hope you see this.  If you took a look and don’t come back? I’ll be so mad of not thinking of this sooner!

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I was talking about Bedbug Treatment earlier.  They run like crazy through our vents so if one person can get them, in can be a bloody Five Alarm Pesticide Fire for the rest of us.

Due to this “New and Improved” (I love that oxyMORON) the MORONS around here are making us wash our entire living spaces.  And I don’t mean that annoying Febreeze™ commercial.  I mean it for real.

It’s even more fun because I live in a Bachelor.  Not at least a one bedroom.

Anything you can imagine putting in a washer and dryer to clean, we (I) have to do it.  Alright, a wee dose of sarcasm, BUT NOT THAT WEE!

Afterward, secure tightly in a garbage bag for Pest Control Treatment.  Which I find yet another thing oxyMORONIC.

I doesn’t hurt my other valuables that I would NEVER put in a washer and dryer.  Like my BOSE WAVE III.  So, if they’re worried about Bedbugs in every single stitch of our clothes, linens, every piece of fabric that touches us, why do we have to launder it over and over?

So here’s what I want to know. 

It doesn’t affect stuff on bedside tables, art on walls, books, CDs and DVDs, Televisions, dishes that might be out because you didn’t get a chance to wash them all yet, food in cupboards, misc. things on shelves, blinds, curtains, any kitchen appliances…

Well, why the hell don’t you just leave all the fabric stuff out in the open and have it all sprayed too!

Harrumph.

Oh, and on Tuesday they’re treating my place for ants and mice.  However, we have “special ants.” They’re called Pharaoh Ants.  Very easy to deal with.

They like water, so just keep any damp areas wiped dry.  Then they go away. 

Although, they can be Techie Ants too.  I’ve found them skirting around my Laptop screen when using it.  Maybe they were just curious as to what I was writing.  Either way, no harm, no foul.  They didn’t cause any damage.

Back to the Bedbugs.  I believe my Second Treatment will be on Thursday.  I couldn’t even manage to do all Preparations for the first.

You see, under my “regular” health conditions, I need to take a guy I know to go grocery shopping with me.  I can’t lift the heavy bags!

I also have him help me with laundry because it gets pretty bad going up and down, up and down… 

A bag of clothes slung over my shoulder with one hand.  The other, holding my cane and a jug of Detergent.

I’m not complaining here.  Know that.  Just the facts of the case.  What I will complain about is that our Laundry Room has five Washers and 10 Dryers.

Now, we have the above and a head injury so unbelievable…well, it is quite unbelievable so try to imagine it when washing my apartment with it!

I get migraines that appear like I’m having strokes.  Neat, huh?

A stroke.  Picture that.  Even on it’s own. 

Granted, sometimes they are not as bad, and SO symptomatic; waving a huge flag with every sign listed.  That was when it started and I first went to hospital.  In my Chart, they Rubber Stamped: STROKE PATIENT!

However, after Discharge I did have another that sent me back to hospital.  Thus, this “thing” is highly unpredictable.  And painful.  And weakening.  And EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

I lose a significant (more than?) degree of both gross and fine motor skills.  PA fall down go BOOM.  In fact, I almost did doing the damn laundry the FIRST time for this!

Wait.  I did fall a bit.  I remember because I immediately wrapped and curled my arms and hands around my head.  To protect it if I went all the way down.  Like my head isn’t (severely!) enough?

I’m also visually impaired so wraparound sunglasses mandatory.  Really sick makes being bedridden mandatory.  So can my awful TBI Sleep.

TBI is an acronym for Traumatic Brain Injury.  The term is generally used for a head injury that’s more than a bump on the bean that you’ll get.  One that won’t significantly affect you, and will heal quickly.  Like a mild Concussion.

However, a more serious Concussion that takes too long to heal, acquires problems, and possible chances something might not heal? Post-Concussion Syndrome? That would then be shifted to a TBI.

All head injuries can make you SO tired and want to sleep.  That can be part of the healing process.  But when stuck with massive, permanent, can be treated or not, your degrees of sleep can be astonishing.

I’m minimum 12hrs a day, but sometimes more.  On some days I would kill for more.  Caffeine or not.  Like today.

The information and guidelines to prepare for this Bedbug Treatment? It’s more like something actually written by the Gestapo.  It makes me wonder if anyone without any challenges could do it all?

Moreover, it’s given to you four days in advance.  Moreover, moreover, I live in a Co-Op.  The By-Laws state, if you need help for any health conditions, you are to obtain a Doctor’s Letter stating why you need help–and what your issues are.

FOUR DAYS??? I got mine for the First Treatment on a Friday.  Thanks for that.  So I was at least ready for the Second.  This was charming.

Despite my letter being Crystal Clear, I was told I had to explain exactly what I needed help with.  In Detail.  Then, the Co-Op would see what they could do.  They could only do so much.

I began citing the portion of the By-Laws regarding all of this, only to be interrupted, that I had to read them, “properly.”

I have a wonderful relationship with our Manager.  We talk, we joke, he knows I know the By-Laws back to front.  I do things to make this place run a lot easier for him.

Why is he not doing the same?

My emails to him now. *laughing*  I’m trying to “maintain” a Business Tone.  Have I reached the Antagonistic Tone yet? I don’t mean to sound that way.  But it’s called: Documentation.

I found a little cart I have that I thought was broken.  One of those metal, grid-like ones you can use for shopping.  It turns out it’s not broken at all.

I could use it for laundry.  Still, there is absolutely NO WAY I can do what is required (again, like I have a stroke, and only having a few days.)

I think I could do my laundry with my little cart.  It actually supports me evenly, so no cane! Completely irrelevant though.

I’m going to have more tea.  Try and wake up.  Then do a couple of loads? It’s so late now nobody will be in there.

God help me.  Well, he can’t.  Agnostic Theorists won’t make it happen.

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In zoned voice to Receptionist with rising tears toward end:

“Hi, it’s me.  I know we talked about delaying things because of my living situation.  Yes, not knowing about the second Bedbug Treatment.  And not hearing back from the maintenance guy about ANOTHER flood from the woman upstairs.

Well, I finally heard back from him, and would have called you earlier but the office was closed.  We need to reschedule the appointment.  In fact, I don’t even know when I can do the bloods.  You see…even if for the time…
when.

..
.
…well, uh, wait, they’re doing more pest control.  Ants and mice.  And I was told my second Bedbug one was two days after?

Things have been damaged I’ve found.  I’m making a list for my Insurance Company because I did everything right.  And the medical letter? It said everything right! But now I have to tell them everything!

Snniff,snifff, I’m sorry.  So it’s not just my living situation and all I have to do there and I don’t know how, but the bloods, and I don’t care.

First week of the month.  That’s when I get my period and the catamenial migraines that mimic strokes and it was so bad this time and real migraines gr…uhhh…ummm Sssoorrryyy…

So no way I could do them on time, in bed for days and I don’t care.  Ahhh…ohhh..snifff…shighff.  I don’t care about my dying liver, having all three Hepatitis A, B and C or dying.  I don’t care.

I can’t do anything about anything.  What’s the point? Who cares and all I have to do is going to take forever anyway so everything is just going to have to wait.  I can’t do anything about anything.

The only thing I can do is get my hair cut.  That’s all I can do.  Get my hair cut.  And dye it too.  That’s all I want to do.  Maybe if I can do that.

So I guess I’ll have to call you back when all of this has to be done.  Thanks, hon.”

The tears will be full throttle if you couldn’t tell.  The call would not be aggressive in any manner whatsoever.

The “hon” is because I have a very special rapport with my portion of the Staff (Sweetie GP’s Staff.)

They would probably (definitely!) ask me if I wanted a call from Sweetie GP. 

With the call I would continue to be so upset, I’d be confused and anything could pop out of my mouth. 

Although note it would not be Passive-aggressive if it sounded like it, because of our relationship.  It would be purely because I was falling apart all over.

This will basically be the call I will have to make to the office tomorrow or Monday.  And sadly, that’s how it will go.

Unless I just shutdown completely and state we must postpone.  However, if I’m asked any questions? Then I might start falling apart.

I think I’ll go for the second option.  Shutdown.  The Receptionists are always busy.

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