Monthly Archives: February 2016

If it’s Tuesday, Then Aliens Don’t Eat Pancakes

Walked into my office this morning and..

Sploosh…sploosh…SPLOOSH!

What the…?

The ancient building I work in had sprung a leak and the entire hallway was flooded.  Apparently, the roof drains clogged during last night’s monsoon (the first rain since 1947 I think), and with nowhere to go the water came inside.   An entire closet filled with paper products – letterhead, envelopes, notebooks, etc – was ruined.  And the floor and carpet were at least ten feet deep in cold water.  Good thing I wore my waterproof workboots this morning, and brought my life jacket. Some guys from maintenance came with a mini wet-vac and cleaned up the water, then turned the a/c on and down to 20 degrees to dry the carpets.

It’s 40 degrees outside, and the wind is howling at a sustained 140 mph, making the wind chill minus Kelvin.  So, of course turning on the air conditioner was the logical thing to do.

My hands were numb from the cold in a matter of minutes, and I believe I accidentally bit off a finger while eating my sammich at lunchtime.  I won’t know for sure until later when my eyeballs thaw and I can see properly again.

Later my phone rang and the following conversation ensued:

ME: HolyWattageBatmanCompany, this is ME

Irate Female Caller: Yeah, somebody called me from that number just now and cussed at me and called me a bitch, and I just wanted to know who it was.

ME: From here?

IFC: Yes, from this number. It’s on my caller I.D.

ME: Ma’am, this is a power company, no one…

IFC: YES..SOMEONE CALLED ME FROM THERE, SAID SOMETHING ABOUT A PAY DAY LOAN CONSOLIDATION, TOLD ME I WAS A BITCH AND HUNG UP ON ME.

ME: Ma’am, this is a power company. We make electricity. I think you have the wrong number.

IFC: Oh, okay *click*

It’s been a weird day.

Lucky Me

There are a few blogs I read all the time.  They range from the silly to the stupid, the ridiculous to the sweet.

And then there’s Dr. Grumpy.

He claims to be either a neurologist or a Yak herder.  Some days, I can’t tell which is true.

Other days, he rants about hilarious patients, formidable hospital administrations, stupid insurance companies, and his teenage children.

Mostly, he seems slightly out of touch with the Average Joe.

Which leads me to believe he really is a Yak herder, and lives in Nepal.  Or a neurologist with little comprehension of what people not making six-figure incomes have to deal with when it comes to health care.

Honestly, I can’t tell.

In general, though, I like him.  Not that it matters to the doc, but there it is.

The comments on his blog are often enlightening, too.

Other doctors, PAs, pharmacists, and other healthcare professionals chime in and it’s those people I take issue with the most.

I have lamented, ad nauseum, about the “invisible diseases”, the pain-centered illnesses like fibromyalgia, CFS, arachnoiditis, and CRPS and the treatment sufferers get at the hands of callous health care people.

I get that one can become jaded at the constant barrage of people looking for the pharmacological quick fix.  I. Get. That.

What I don’t get is how a doctor, or any other healthcare professional, can look me in the eye and dare to tell me I’m not sick, I’m not hurting, I’m making it all up.

Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Grumpy never goes there.  But his followers, the ones who comment, they do. Often.

I always try to point out their ignorance, and am sometimes met with hostility.  Sometimes with disdain, and sometimes with arrogance.

I’m rarely treated with compassion.

And that’s what’s wrong.  We, the people suffering from the silent illnesses, we deserve the same compassion as the cancer patient, the anxiety patient, hell the “every” patient.

I’ve given up trying to get that compassion from the cold, hard, world-at-large.  I’m very lucky my pain doctor is understanding, and that my pharmacist is someone I’ve known for over 20 years.  I rarely, if ever, have to deal with the sideways glances and raised eyebrows at my monthly ‘scripts that keep me upright, productive, mobile and happy.

I’m one of the lucky ones, and that too, is so wrong.