Pissed

Let the record show that before all this process began, I was not a fan of dealing with doctors.

I think this is a fact for most people and a large percentage of the commonly known pie chart: "Why Dealing with my Health is Fucking Daunting!"

As per my last post, I had gone to the rheumatologist who conducted further blood work and prescribed steroids to help me, in the very literal sense, get back on my feet whilst we figure out the best course of action. The meds seem to be helping, by the way. A couple of days ago I was able to do a short, very easy hike and yesterday took the dog for a walk! For anyone who has actually seen my mobility firsthand, these two events are huge!

Cut scene back to why I'm pissed.

After waiting a week to hear back about my results, last Thursday (in efforts to save you from the math, that was 5 days ago from this post) I find myself sitting in a conference room minutes into the beginning of a seminar for work when I hear my phone vibrate in my bag. I knew in the pit of my stomach it was the call I had been waiting for yet figured I'd just call them back and find out what's going on.

Let me reiterate to the jury...That was last Thursday.

It is now Tuesday.

5.

Days.

Two return messages left from me (despite their plea for no duplicate messages to which I thought, "Um, fuck you. Call me back." Squeaky wheels and all that jazz, right?)

It's interesting to me really when the biggest critique regarding national healthcare is the fear of increasing waiting lists for care. Well, shit. I have fine damn insurance provided by a company that I work my ass off for yet I still receive no attention.

Oh, and apparently a prescription for vitamin D has been submitted and filled by Walgreens. How do I even know it's Vit. D? Because I had to actually call the pharmacy to find out what the fuck they had filled for which I was receiving phone calls that it was ready for pick-up.

Seriously, bro.... (Or, should it be "ho" given that my Dr is a female even though it's not common vernacular?)

What the fuck.

My doctor should know better than to piss me off right now given that she was the one prescribing the 'roids from which I'm raging.

Okay.

This is ranty.

And, very sweary.

It felt damn good, though. So, if you made it this far into the bitchfest, I thank you. Now, go scream some 4 Non Blondes from the top of your lungs...

4 Non Blondes - "What's Up"