7/16/21

Today is Friday.  Not a great day.  Have you ever gotten so mad that you didn't dare open your mouth in fear of what might come out?  That was my morning.  I had an appointment at physical therapy that I'd waited 5 solid weeks for.  After numerous phone calls, texts, and emails, I finally got in.  Everyone knew why I wanted the appointment.  I waited the appropriate length of time required by Medicare using my arm pressure sleeve, so that I could get the torso portion sent to me.  At least, that was according to the company that sells them and my physical therapist.  Well, my therapist was wrong.  Apparently, she didn't know what she was talking about.  She was supposed to be seeing me this whole time and taking measurements.  She told me months ago that I was released and didn't need to see her any longer.  She told me today that she'd made a mistake and that I'd have to 'start over' and begin seeing her so she could take measurements before I qualified for the torso portion.  Since I will at MD Anderson in Houston for the next 7 weeks, she told me that we could begin upon my return.  Yeah, right.  I could hardly believe what I was hearing.  I wanted to say 'you incompetent Witch', or something similar.  But, I didn't say that.  I had a mask on, so I mouthed it because no one could see me.  I did say, however, that I wanted all of my records sent to me by the end of the day and that I would never be coming back there.  And I walked out.  I'm pretty sure people I passed in the hallway could see steam coming from my ears as I exited the building.  Now, do you think I received my records that she said she would send?  Hell, no.  So, I will be calling from Houston next week to speak to the boss, whoever that may be.  I hope I have cooled off a bit more by that time and can speak calmly about today's encounter, but I wouldn't bet on it.  I have an appointment with MD Anderson's physical therapist on Tuesday afternoon, and I'd better have my records by then.  I'll see what they can do to help me, if anything.  I'm not putting much stock in what that institution tells me any longer, either.  The doctor that did my final ultrasound told me that I would be contacted by today with my biopsy time on Monday morning.  Nada, zip, nothing.  I don't even know if I'm having a biopsy on Monday morning, or not.  I was also told I'd have my test results from Thursday in my file by today.  Do you think that happened?  Hell, no.  The last thing she said to me was 'don't worry about this too much and enjoy your weekend'.  Yeah, right.  

My experiences with the medical field have not been ideal of late.  In fact, I'm getting pretty damn frustrated.  My Damnit Doll is needing a new hairdo soon.  She has been pounded on multiple surfaces too many times lately and is becoming a bit ragged.  She never complains, tho, and is always there for me.

David and I brought the RV home and it's parked in the driveway now.  We'll begin packing it tomorrow after it gets a good cleaning.  Spiders took over the residence in the 6 months it was in storage and I was walking through cobwebs getting it ready to tow home today.  Ick.  We'll be leaving Sunday, early afternoon, for Houston.  The RV park boasts excellent WiFi, so hopefully that rings true so I can blog on.

I got a funny card in the mail today.  It made me laugh and it had a riddle in it that I'll share tonight.

Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?

Because if they flew over the bay, they'd be called Bagels.  Ha!

Well, I thought it was funny.....

I don't always go the extra mile, but when I do, it's usually because I missed my exit.