Monday, December 12, 2016

Releives joint discomfort

I fucking hate people sometimes. often. Especially stupid people. One of our Arts Council's board member's husband is gravely ill. I asked the other members to maybe make some food for them, and I would deliver it. One would think I asked them an algebra question. What should I make? they ask. Food, godamit. It is not hard. Soup. Fucking chex mix. Sandwiches. I have been angry about this all morning and I thought that if I put it on virtual paper, I might feel better. I mean, I try to do something nice and now it has turned into an organizational nightmare. Fuckers.

So. I am seeing another cardiologist, after my last one, Dr. Tran and his team at the Missouri Heart Center dropped me through a crack in their system. LSS, I had a procedure in JULY, for fuck's sake, and was sent home with a paper saying they would contact and make an appointment for me. I quote: Dr. Tran's office will contact you to set up an appointment with Dr. Botteron. Nobody fucking contacted me and I kept waiting, feeling sicker as summer dragged on. So when I finally did call them, I figured something would happen. When I called again, a week later, I was told that my previous call had been duly posted in my record. And not a damn thing had been done. So, I lost my mind. And burst into tears. You know, tears do work, but the situation should never have happened where tears were needed. So, fuck them. And the horse they came in on.

I asked my primary care provider to set me up with a new cardiologist in her network. I have seen the new guy. He spent time with me and seemed to really listen and I have an appointment with the even-more-specialist next week. What I like about this group is that they use email, as though they actually exist in the 21st century. They are in contact with me. Novel!

The solstice approaches. Another month of darkness by 5 pm. A new year, an imaginary new slate, a fresh calendar. I am doing my best to keep my mood up, although it's hard. I've gained weight. Not a lot, but 5 pounds makes a difference in how some of my clothes fit. I do try to eat right and I do try to walk 8-12 blocks with the dogs daily, but still.

It could be worse. I know. I could be in war torn Syria. So, I'm trying hard to cheer up, to keep upbeat, to try and not melt away into despair. Even though the president-elect makes me sick in the pit of my stomach.

I've been knitting, so there's that. Socks for Sweetie, maybe 3 pair this month. Last night I began the Baa Baa Bobble hat and am up to the sheep, and it's interesting and fun enough. Makes me eager to finish each round. I listen to No Such Thing as a Fish. That makes me happy. They are on Youtube also, with No Such Thing as the News. And we watched the first season of True Detective last week and we were both sucked in deep. And I've been trying to read Version Control, which is about time travel, but don't call it that! It makes me dream about time travel!

But one last thing. Both Sweetie and his younger brother have bad feelings about December 2017. Sweetie's take happens on the 17th, brother's on the 27th. Bad like in the world coming to an end. Well, that has scared me. I hope it is closer to home, some tragedy in the family, and not some huge meteor or something. Still, Sweetie wants us to be in Iceland by the 14th of December.

So, that's a plan.

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