"Well, You're Just A Bit Of Betch Today..."
That's what I wanted to say to someone today. But I held back. She was trying to help me after all.
I had to go to the hospital for a monthly "treatment" today. There were other people there for the same treatment. And since I took today off (because of I have vacation days left to take before the 31st), I took my time arriving at the hospital for the treatment.
So I was the last person for the treatment. And this meant I had to sit around in a hospital room for about 30 minutes. Just waiting for the doctor and nurse to come in and treat me. Luckily, I had brought in the Thursday NY Times with me. (After I get treated, I have to lie down for about 10 minutes. So if you don't bring something to read, you will be bored counting the minutes.)
I got through the entire front page, including the continuation of the articles to the jump pages further in the section. (Side note: NY Times Editors, why the HELL was the Omaha Shooting story BELOW THE FOLD? You COULD HAVE moved Huckabee's profile down the page, instead of making it the center piece. It was a good piece though. But come on! People die while holiday shopping, and you push Huckabee?)
Finally, the doctor comes in. She doesn't bother to introduce herself. But the nurse was super nice and friendly. The doctor preps me for my treatment with the nurse's help.
"Are you on any drugs?" she asks.
"My doctor prescribed me one, yes," I inform her, as curtly as possible.
I failed to mention that I chose not to take the drug this month... As it made me uber-bitchy the past two months I took it. And uber-cry-y. And I had hot flashes like crazy. And it broke me out so badly that I am having to now do a series of ultrasound facials to re-build the natural collagen in my face. But she didn't need to know any of this.
She starts the procedure, which takes other doctors who I have seen about one minute to do. It took her a good five minutes to do her thing. And she was a little rough.
"Why didn't you tell me you are tilted back and to the left?" she demanded to know.
"You mean it's not on my chart?" I asked. Then I sniped (but made it come off as a joke), "I wanted to keep things exciting."
She didn't appreciate the "joke." But to be honest, a lot of people don't appreciate my little quips. So I wasn't offended that she got offended.
But seriously, she needs to have a sense of humor. I mean, I have a sense of humor about this whole thing... And I'm the one with the problem that exists that no one has been able to diagnose.
If she didn't want to spend her days peering into the female cavity to assist women, then she shouldn't have become a female-specialty doctor. She needs to develop a sense of humor. Or perhaps next time I could take my pedicured foot and smack her in the back of the head with it to help her find one.
Man, am I sure I'm not on the hormones this month?
I had to go to the hospital for a monthly "treatment" today. There were other people there for the same treatment. And since I took today off (because of I have vacation days left to take before the 31st), I took my time arriving at the hospital for the treatment.
So I was the last person for the treatment. And this meant I had to sit around in a hospital room for about 30 minutes. Just waiting for the doctor and nurse to come in and treat me. Luckily, I had brought in the Thursday NY Times with me. (After I get treated, I have to lie down for about 10 minutes. So if you don't bring something to read, you will be bored counting the minutes.)
I got through the entire front page, including the continuation of the articles to the jump pages further in the section. (Side note: NY Times Editors, why the HELL was the Omaha Shooting story BELOW THE FOLD? You COULD HAVE moved Huckabee's profile down the page, instead of making it the center piece. It was a good piece though. But come on! People die while holiday shopping, and you push Huckabee?)
Finally, the doctor comes in. She doesn't bother to introduce herself. But the nurse was super nice and friendly. The doctor preps me for my treatment with the nurse's help.
"Are you on any drugs?" she asks.
"My doctor prescribed me one, yes," I inform her, as curtly as possible.
I failed to mention that I chose not to take the drug this month... As it made me uber-bitchy the past two months I took it. And uber-cry-y. And I had hot flashes like crazy. And it broke me out so badly that I am having to now do a series of ultrasound facials to re-build the natural collagen in my face. But she didn't need to know any of this.
She starts the procedure, which takes other doctors who I have seen about one minute to do. It took her a good five minutes to do her thing. And she was a little rough.
"Why didn't you tell me you are tilted back and to the left?" she demanded to know.
"You mean it's not on my chart?" I asked. Then I sniped (but made it come off as a joke), "I wanted to keep things exciting."
She didn't appreciate the "joke." But to be honest, a lot of people don't appreciate my little quips. So I wasn't offended that she got offended.
But seriously, she needs to have a sense of humor. I mean, I have a sense of humor about this whole thing... And I'm the one with the problem that exists that no one has been able to diagnose.
If she didn't want to spend her days peering into the female cavity to assist women, then she shouldn't have become a female-specialty doctor. She needs to develop a sense of humor. Or perhaps next time I could take my pedicured foot and smack her in the back of the head with it to help her find one.
Man, am I sure I'm not on the hormones this month?
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