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This probably isn't going to make a lot of sense and frankly I don't even care. If you don't want to read it, don't fucking read it. But this is how people become so fucking angry at the system that they give up and just cease to fucking care.
I had a doctor's appointment today. A crucial one. A very, VERY crucial one, because due to bowel issues I had to cancel one I had for two weeks ago, and I am now completely out of pain relief for a shoulder and arm which are giving out on me due to a problem I can't get properly diagnosed because I don't fit into MRI machines. You know how we hear about people like Rush Limbaugh being addicted to stuff like OxyContin? I'll never understand it. I'm on Oxycodone and Fentanyl to help manage pain which, if I move too suddenly in just the right way, has more than once nearly caused me to pass out. I'm talking literally here. I see flashes of light in front of my eyes and then shit goes gray and it's all I can do to not hit the deck! I take these things because I have to for the pain but do you know what this stuff does to your insides? For one thing it makes it where if I don't take constant doses of senna (an herbal laxative without any toxic side-effects) I will get hopelessly constipated no matter what I eat. And then I'm stuck drinking a bottle of magnesium citrate or some such garbage and then for two days afterwards I can't stay out of the fucking bathroom. I'll NEVER understand being addicted to the stuff. If I could stop taking it all right now I'd do it in a heartbeat. Other than making it possible for me to sleep just a tiny bit better, or turning those blinding light/hit the deck episodes into a dull disgusting roar, I'm not at all impressed. There's no euphoria or feeling good involved with it. It sucks. Yes, I'm obese, but even without any extra weight I'm wide as hell and tall, too. Not to mention the other medications I'm either low on or completely out of. I had to cancel the appointment two weeks ago because I'm at the mercy of Las Vegas' para-transit system, which is supposed to be what people who have problems getting around on regular buses rely on for important stuff like doctors' appointments. For the more than 6 months I've been at my current address, I have been asking the company to fix the information the drivers get in their passenger manifests because they not only have my address wrong by an entire stoplight, but they neglect to mention that our apartment is in the back of the complex. I've had drivers who have driven around aimlessly for 10 minutes or more looking for a place to pick me up. I've had them go to the wrong apartment complexes and have dispatch call me to find me. I've had everything under the fucking sun happen with these rides and I have requested a minimum of half a dozen times that the information be changed and have told these sons of bitches verbatim how to do it so the fucking drivers wouldn't get lost.
Well today of ALL days, some lazy fuckstick asshole driver who couldn't be bothered to make sure he did his job just wrote us off as a no-show. Called his dispatch and said we weren't there. In the meantime, my wife was standing outside in the rear parking lot for over half an hour and never saw a para-transit bus go by anywhere. Not on our side-street, not anywhere else in the parking lot. I called the company AFTER this goddamn son of a bitch asshole told dispatch we were a no-show and they are now refusing to send out another bus. So, with no way to get to my doctor's office, I am now 7 minutes away from missing this appointment and will likely need to be rescheduled ANOTHER two weeks from now. As for this doctor I have, they have no problem telling me to wait two weeks when circumstances beyond my control cause me to miss an important appointment, even after the doctor himself gave my wife and I a lecture about making sure my pain patch/pill doses are given on time and with clockwork regularity. But will they supply a refill prescription if my wife offers to go down there by herself? For anything? Absolutely not, because that must mean I'm a fucking low-life piece of shit addict like Rush Limbaugh or something! Right? And of course he has me on all these fancy boutique sample medications which he gives me samples for, otherwise they would cost us $50 each for the co-pays. We're living on my wife's $11-and-change/hr. income right now and that's IT. And the insurance that we have takes a $164 chunk out of every bi-weekly paycheck. You do the math.
And all of this doesn't even take into account the fact that I'm also beating my head against a wall trying to get some devices to help with my leg circulation. I'm talking weeks of phone calls, ineptitude and stupid bullshit and no results. Or the fact that I'm gifted with the world's tiniest veins and it takes even a good phlebotomist an average of 2-3 sticks in places as exotic as finger joints and the back of my wrist to find one little teeny place to take some blood with a baby needle. And PICC line nurses telling me that out of what should be between 6 and 8 easy candidates for a PICC line between both arms, all my veins are so deep and so fucking small that they've only been able to use ONE of them to insert three different lines over the last two years, in nearly the same place. So what the fuck do I do if that vein goes out? I already have a left arm that's almost completely non-functional and nobody can tell me why. I don't feel like losing the right one also.
I could go on and on and fucking on if I wanted to, talking about all of this bullshit, and it seems like no matter how hard we try, or how vigilant we are, or how hard we work to try and do what we're supposed to or how hard we try and make things easier or improve them, it's one fucking ridiculous smackdown after another. I just don't get it. I'm ready so fucking help me to just throw up my hands and say fuck everything.
While I've been typing all this out, my wife has been on the phone with para-transit, desperately trying to get these shit eating donkeys to get it right and show up where we actually live instead of where they damn well feel like. I also called my doctor's office and explained what just happened, and was told that I can show up tomorrow at 7:45 am, but no other time. So if I'm not there because people are too fucking dumb to find an address I guess I'm straight fucked. Only this time, I'm going to ask my wife to be in front of the complex and my roommate to be on the side of it, while I sit out in the back so there is absolutely NO goddamn way they can pull a stunt like this again. It almost sounds like the punchline to a variation of that how many ___________ does it take to screw in a light bulb joke as I'm typing it in, but whatever. Whatever it takes, I'll do. I just dare the fuckers to mess this shit up again.
Great world. Who fucking cares if you're in pain, or if you're comfortable or if you have rudimentary equipment to help extend the life of your limbs? There are very few people anywhere on the planet I would wish this sheer amount of bullshit upon. If I didn't have my wife to help me out at times like this there's no way I'd even be here right now. I'm done. I'm out of shit to rant about. I just want to try and lay down for a while and not wake up every 30 minutes feeling like someone is stabbing me in the left bicep. Fucking bullshit. Please feel free to remind me about calories in < calories out or any other snarky thing you care to in the handy space provided below when you click the "Reply" button. And have a nice day.
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