Game On, Bitches…You Are Screwing With The Wrong Woman

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Warning: This blog may contain traces of nastiness and pissiness and all sorts of other nesses that are not at all cheerful or warm and fuzzy.  In other words, fasten your seat belts kiddies, this is gonna be one bitchy blog!

Okay, so I have mentioned my annoying health issues in the past, particularly my asthma and this stupid VCD crap and all that.  Well, in case you didn’t notice, I’ve been sick for a while now…again.  Like, 2 months of hacking and wheezing and feeling shitty.  Fun, right??  I have been to the doctor 3 times and the ER 3 times.  I have done every single thing they have told me to do.  I have been on one steroid or another for close to 3 weeks, and I have taken one antibiotic for a day, then switched to a different one for 10 days, then got a shot of antibiotics.  I have taken cough medicine and Mucinex and decongestants and cold pills.  I have done regular breathing treatments and tried to rest as much as possible, but not too much.  I have had doctors and respiratory therapists tell me my lungs sound crappy, and I have had others say they sound fine.  AND I AM STILL FUCKING SICK!  So I went to the doctor yesterday.  She said that I should be getting better, but I’m not, and she doesn’t know why.  She listened to my lungs and said they still sound crappy.  She recommended that I go to the ER so they could run some tests and whatnot and figure out what’s wrong.  So I did.  They gave me a breathing treatment, diagnosed me with a cough (seriously folks, that was my diagnosis), and sent me home with some cough syrup (which I was VERY happy about as I am relatively sure I will literally cough up a lung any time now).  The ER doc also told me that I was to call my pulminologist today and make an appointment to be seen within 48 hours.  When I told him that I doubted they would schedule me that soon, he told me to inform them that he said I HAVE to be seen, that it’s not optional.  Yeah.  So I called my pulminologist and tried to schedule a follow-up appointment.  I was told I would receive a callback with an appointment.  Instead, a nurse calls me back and asks me bunches of questions, which I answered with barely any irritation in my voice, then she told me she would talk to the doc and call me back. Hours later, I called back to see what was up.  When she finally returned my call, she informed me that my pulminologist, without seeing me or talking to me himself, decided the whole sick thing is just my vocal chord thing, that it isn’t my asthma.  I am ashamed to admit that I pretty much lost my shit entirely at that point.  Not only did this doctor completely ignore the ER docs order for a follow-up appointment, he didn’t even offer to schedule one in the near future!  Instead, I was told to do nasal rinses or whatever and the vocal chord exercises for a couple weeks, then call if I am still having issues.  The fact that this arrogant son of a bitch blew me off like this was a tad infuriating.  He didn’t even acknowledge the symptoms I have that totally don’t fit his stupid VCD diagnosis!  Ever since he decided I have this vocal chord problem, he has refused to acknowledge anything else or address anything else.  When I told him the therapy lady flat-out told me that the exercises wouldn’t help the perfume issue, and that this has become a huge problem for me, he just told me to remember the exercises and everything would be fine!  And now he says that none of this sickness is my asthma, it’s all due to the VCD thing, even though that doesn’t fit the symptoms.  WTF??  I am beyond livid and I have had enough.  I am done letting these medical jerks treat me like an insignificant moron who is unworthy of any respect or consideration.  I do not understand why they refuse to listen to me…I’m the one who has dealt with my body and all its issues my whole life, for cryin’ out loud!  These people have no idea what hell it is to be sick like this week after week after week, while every doc you see tells you something different and passes you on to the next one without a second thought.  It makes me feel like I’m some hysterically over-dramatic, insignificant loser who simply needs to buck up and stop being sick, apparently through willpower alone.  Just for the record, being sick is not fun.  I do not like coughing and hacking and wheezing and feeling like I can’t breathe and such.  None of this is enjoyable for me.  I do not want attention.  I do not want to get out of work.  I do not want pity.  What I want is simple–I want to feel better, damn it.  And I don’t want it to take weeks or months to get better.  I don’t want to feel panicky over missing work and losing money and making things harder for the girls I work with.  I hate the way people look at me when I’m hacking and wheezing and such–like I’m the next Typhoid Mary or some shit.  I hate ending up in the hospital, where I am alone and miserable and uncomfortable and bored.  I never expect visitors, nor do I get any beyond my aunt bringing me stuff I want/need from home.  Seriously, there is nothing appealing about being sick.

Tomorrow, I am going to my regular doctor with an actual list of my symptoms and concerns, and I am going to try to get her to help me get this crap taken care of.  Wish me luck.

Well, now that that is out of the way, onto more typically me sorts of blatherings!

Randomosity:  Okay, this may be a tad offensive-ish to some folks, but I just can’t help what pops into my head, and this is what popped up there yesterday while I was driving.  Has anyone else ever noticed that Kiwi fruit looks rather like a testicle?  And who saw one of those and thought it looked like food?  Like, seriously, if you had never seen one before, and someone handed you a kiwi, would you immediately want to eat it?  Hell no!  It looks like a dude’s dangly bit, all hairy and weird and such–definitely not food-ish looking.  I am totally psyched that the movie Annabelle comes out on Redbox next week!  The day before my birthday, to be exact!  I am so going to get rent that movie!  I really need new slippers, the insole thingy is starting to come loose and they’re looking all ratty and such.  Not sure if I want 2 pairs of slippers, one regular pair and one of the boot variety, or if I just want slipper boots.  I shall have to ponder that one for a bit.  Rae gave me new Grinch jammy pants for Christmas!  They are super cute and I can’t wait to wear them, even though they are not as ginormously huge as I usually wear my jammy pants.  I think they probably fit like jammy pants are actually supposed to fit, which is awkward since the Grinch pants are at least 2 sizes smaller than I would usually wear.  Hey!  I just realized that it is officially Wednesday, the 21st, which means it is officially Dany’s birthday!

dany dance recital 12.7.14

Happy birthday to my adorable niece, Miss Danyka Rae, who is turning 6 today!!

And happy exactly one week until my bday to me I guess, lol.  Why aren’t there more tap-dancing squirrels?  Why don’t they sell clothes for pet tarantulas?  Not that I can undersand why on earth anyone would ever want one of those creepy critters, but some folks do, and they probably wish they could get them little spidery outfits and tiny little jaunty hats and such.  Well, I guess they aren’t that little, really.  But whatever, their owners still probably wish they could dress them up and whatnot. I want a pet duck.  Ducks are much nicer and less dastardly than chickens, and they definitely do not want to eat our faces off.  Totally better than chickens.  (sorry Noodle, but it’s true)  Noodle can have her chickens, I’ll have a little pet ducky and someday, I’ll have a giant metal duck and Noodle will have her giant metal chicken, and we will be the coolest bitches EVER. Knock Knock, Motherfuckers!  (In case you are sadly uninformed, the giant metal chicken and it’s greeting are from the genius mind of the one and only Bloggess, who is my hero.  Find her blog and stalk it y’all.)  Do ducks have nails on their adorably webby feet?  If so, I would totally paint my ducks nails.

Gotta go, flamingo!

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2 thoughts on “Game On, Bitches…You Are Screwing With The Wrong Woman

  1. longchaps2

    You have gotta knock down that asthma. My husband has it now. Night asthma the doctors call it. Because he gets it at night. Morons. It’s asthma that they won’t treat correctly, so it flares at night when he lays down. He’s going NUTS just like you. I really, really, really hope you get some relief. Otherwise you need to get your pet duck. Teach it to attack. Take it to the doctors office. Yep.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sadly, it appears that the field of medicine is primarily populated by complete arrogant dunderheads that need a swift kick in the bahookey. Tell Butler I’ll loan him my attack duck when and if I ever get one! Thank you for caring, and I hope the hubby’s ‘night asthma’ (wth?) get properly treated asap too! And I so adore the idea of an attack duck btw…

      Liked by 1 person

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