This MS Clinic bullshit is really pushing me to the limit of my patience. I looked at their site for their number and found a patient questionnaire that is evidently supposed to be filled out and returned prior to scheduling. So why the fuck did nobody tell me this when I called, twice, to follow up? Mother fucker, I had to drop off my MRI disc and was told seven to ten days, only to follow up with a phone call and find out one to two weeks. At no time did anyone say "oh, by the way, did you look on our website and find that you have to fill out ten mother fucking pages of medical history? Oh, you didn't know that you had to go on line? Whoops!"
So I filled out those ten fucking pages and am sending it via UPS overnight so that they'll have it tomorrow. I can't understand why no one told me about it. So now I get to call and sit on hold for however long so that I can ask if there is anything else I need to do. As in anything. Because it is apparently my responsibility to research and find out what their fucking requirements are. My goddamn neurologist didn't tell me this. His assistant fucked me by telling me to hang onto my MRI disc, and no one seems to understand that a regular citizen such as myself does not automatically know what to do in order to be seen by a specialist once the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis has been made.
Between this and the fucking fucked up marriage, is it surprising that I can't sleep? And all of the fun is being drained out of my life. Today I had to cancel my flight to San Diego because I realized that I desperately need tires (sorry, Chey!) and I can't afford both. Being a grown up fucking blows.
On the bright side, someone told me I looked like I was losing weight. This is totally due to stress and nothing healthy I've done myself. I don't eat as frequently anymore due to sheer lethargy. It just seems too much trouble to figure out what to eat once I get home so I eat bread and cheese and then just give up because it is too much effort. And I'm not really exercising. I ran one day last week, did some squats and lunges on Saturday, and hauled a heavy ass table home from the liquor store. So yay for stress actually having some form of a positive effect!
So woe is me and boo fucking hoo. According to the chick I spoke to, they are hoping I'll hear back today or tomorrow. I'll start holding my breath in a minute. Oh, and it "usually doesn't take long at all to get an appointment with him because he keeps slots open for new patients."
If you don't see me passed out and blue in the face it's because I don't believe a fucking word people say anymore.
Sheesh. When did I get so bitter? Here is something to make up for this post:
So I filled out those ten fucking pages and am sending it via UPS overnight so that they'll have it tomorrow. I can't understand why no one told me about it. So now I get to call and sit on hold for however long so that I can ask if there is anything else I need to do. As in anything. Because it is apparently my responsibility to research and find out what their fucking requirements are. My goddamn neurologist didn't tell me this. His assistant fucked me by telling me to hang onto my MRI disc, and no one seems to understand that a regular citizen such as myself does not automatically know what to do in order to be seen by a specialist once the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis has been made.
Between this and the fucking fucked up marriage, is it surprising that I can't sleep? And all of the fun is being drained out of my life. Today I had to cancel my flight to San Diego because I realized that I desperately need tires (sorry, Chey!) and I can't afford both. Being a grown up fucking blows.
On the bright side, someone told me I looked like I was losing weight. This is totally due to stress and nothing healthy I've done myself. I don't eat as frequently anymore due to sheer lethargy. It just seems too much trouble to figure out what to eat once I get home so I eat bread and cheese and then just give up because it is too much effort. And I'm not really exercising. I ran one day last week, did some squats and lunges on Saturday, and hauled a heavy ass table home from the liquor store. So yay for stress actually having some form of a positive effect!
So woe is me and boo fucking hoo. According to the chick I spoke to, they are hoping I'll hear back today or tomorrow. I'll start holding my breath in a minute. Oh, and it "usually doesn't take long at all to get an appointment with him because he keeps slots open for new patients."
If you don't see me passed out and blue in the face it's because I don't believe a fucking word people say anymore.
Sheesh. When did I get so bitter? Here is something to make up for this post:
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