Not Worthy, and Other Bull$hit

Received a phone call this morning from a whining, nasally voiced, arrogant bitch with an attitude for days.  Seems it has come to her attention that I have not yet moved into ground floor quarters therefore she is punishing me by withholding Occupational Therapy at Home. 

Oh sweet Christ on a cracker!  I am unworthy of her care and attention!!! How do I put this gently? The harpy is clearly off her feed or meds, not sure which.  Bless her heart!

She sounded more like Miss Francis from Ding Dong School (I’ll wager no one will remember who that is.) on Speed than a medical professional, but I let her rant and purge, stomp her feet and reprimand for a good 5 minutes.  Finally referred her to the Oncologist and Infectious Disease specialist. Enuf.  STFU, lady!

Sure it may take longer these days, I do believe I can change my clothes, wash dishes, bathe the scrawny old body, tie my shoe laces, and even prepare my own meals if needed.  So I told her to go and blow goats, in the most Christian way, of course.

Linda picked me up for the Center appointment; ; the Lab results showed that I require a single unit of whole blood. This has been scheduled for tomorrow morning at 8:30 - Linda will also drop me off and pick me up again tomorrow. 

While we were out, we stopped by her house and she weighed me down with more of her Stew, which is a heavenly treat. (No one can say she's not doing her part to fatten me up.)We also stopped so she could do a bit of banking, then dropped off yet another prescription (I still had a small supply left here, so I didn’t rush to fill all the scripts last weekend) and was told that the other pain patch ordered had not yet arrived today as promised.  So, both will be picked up tomorrow after infusion.

By this time we were both hungry, chose to dine out for breakfast/lunch, and sort through some of the Medicare papers she’s received already this week.  If only they were as quick to settle claims as they are to send bills and demands for completed questionnaires this would be a far, far simpler world to live in. 

Just as with the last batch of bull$hit Linda received, many questions couldn’t be answered because the documentation is only available in my own files.  Jeez!  These people are such Gits!

For the second day of a row, I’ve spent 2 - 3 hours out and about. Again, it felt deliciously good even if I do get a bit wobbly after the first hour and a half. My strength will build, albeit slowly and eventually I’ll be able to drive myself and even master more of a comfortable walking gait or stride.

For now, someone will be here to help me up and down the stairs; bring up whatever packages or bags are in tow. This is all very strange for someone who has been such an independent person for so many years. I am not used to being pampered and I guess it shows.

Sometimes I feel like a toddler and other times feel blessed that those helping hands are here for me.

I am amazed.

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