I heard about that from a friend, about twenty years ago. I started trying to deal with it by carrying a man-purse instead of a wallet, but those are a real PITA to keep organized. Nowadays, I just carry two wallets around, one in each hip pocket, to keep me balanced.
I still have chronic pelvic pain, though. Either because sitting on two lumps rocks my hips forward, or because I’m a fat-ass. Or both.
[Dr. Foreman]
It’s either MS or vasculitis. Get him on interferon, stat.
[/Dr. Foreman]
Last time I went to a doc-in-the-box – years ago, thank Og – I had a really nasty case of pneumonia. Wonder I wasn’t hospitalized for it.
Anyway, when they took chest x-rays, they forgot to have me take off my shirt. I, of course, was barely functional, and took no note of it. At the time.
So the next day, more than half dead, I got to enjoy their panicked call telling me that I had spots on my lungs, and should immediately get them checked out as it could be cancer. Had to drag myself to another appointment, with my (very good) doctor… who ranted for a good 5-minutes because the “spots” on my x-ray were a neat row of buttons down my chest, and one over each breast pocket. And they had only done a back x-ray, no side-shot. He was so angry that he talked himself out of calling up doc-in-the-box and just called whoever it is in MO that oversees doctors – while I was still there, in my half-stupor.
… would’ve been the coolest case of symmetrical cancer ever, though.
:drumming fingers impatiently:
Who’s kept you detained so long, Sampiro? Tell them to knock it off – we want the rest already!
(Also, to join the chorus – get a new primary doctor. The best doc in the world is useless if you can’t manage to see him for months after you have need to, or who doesn’t have the time to really treat you once you get to him. Find someone competent and experienced and available.)
ahem.
Do we need to set up a tea party with Sampiro to get the rest of the story from him? (Or should we say her, now?) 
Err would someone like to check that Sampiro hasn’t dropped off the twig or somthing?
(stupid tenderhooks/tenterhooks whatever)
That’s a worrisome word, “detained.” But I think collectively we can come up with bail money.
Where is the end of the story, already!
I blame Proposition 8.
=(
Now we’ll never get to hear the end of the story, dammit!
If you find out about any extended warranty plans, let me know. I’m 41, and am interested.
Apologies: business, half blindness (iritis/toxoplasmosis/possible minor retinal tear I now know), the election, and trying to decide if I should go into detail on the story of why Orkin owes my dog $200 or just reference it, the Jews- all caused delays. These things happen. Where was I?
Ah yes, again- will seem irrelevant, but I will show relevance:
I hadn’t really planned on dressing up for Halloween this year. In the first place I’m trying to conserve money (due in part to all the damned co-pays), in the second none of my friends were having a Halloween party this year (one of those “we all have t’ings going on” happenstances), third I wasn’t scheduled to work, fourth my eye hurts. So since I really would only be seeing the dogs and they’ve seen me everything from naked to toga to Confederate soldier to blind Greek beggar (all on the same day at times) I wasn’t planning on dressing.
However, since my eye was helped out, and since a friend at work who was running a Halloween Party/trick or treat for kids of students and staff, plus- I’m gay and out in one of the few remaining enclaves where that’s still a rare bird somehow and we have a stereotype for elaborate Halloween costumes (fairly accurate one in some instances) I’m generally expected to come in with something fab and original. Well, there’s performance anxiety, I don’t want to dress at all this year and I can’t reach expectations because I haven’t bought anything or prepared, but I got talked into coming in anyway.
Trouble was, no costume, no planning, and I don’t want to wear a previous year’s costume, and I don’t want to spend more than a few dollars max. So I went through my costume boxes seeing what was there. I pull out a latex mask used years ago that kinda sorta resembles Fat Bastard(it’s not a FB mask)- multiple chins, scars and scabs, and long red hair, a really wrinkled ratty XXXL dressing gown, and a jabot from a costume a couple of years years ago, and think "with a bit of accessorizing, I can do something with these, and it’s cheap.
I decide I’ll go as the Marquis de Sade (not the guy with the whips and the glee as sometimes portrayed but the morbidly obese dirty hunched over impotent old man. Of course that’s just the inspiration- I don’t expect anyone to look at me and say “ooh, cool Marquis de Sade costume”, because I’d certainly never recognize it as such, but with the right accent and makeup they’ll see a creepy aristocratic old man who’s clearly seen better days but is still scary and still Halloween campy. The only flesh that’ll be showing is the hands and so I make the finger scaley with faux filthy nails and the rest I’ll cover with old gloves, which I have. Since the hair on the mask is long and red I did need a ribbon or hair bow however, and if they have any cheap costume jewelry that’d be good. So I go to a drugstore that’s on the way to work, figuring they should have these.
To be continued (the drugstore being why it’s relevant obviously)
Since the costume’s only tangentially related to the story, some pics while you wait. Didn’t turn out too bad for a last minute throw-together I must say.
Details, man, details! Your audience lives for the details!
ps: Great costume. I would have guessed Scrooge, for some reason, although the jabot’s all wrong for that.
Please consider yourself reminded to tell us about the lady who asked about “peanut butter balls”. You can open a new thread or use this one, we don’t mind.
And ditto for the story of why Orkin owes your dog $200.
The good news about the toxoplasmosis is that should you become pregnant, since you’ve already been exposed to it, you won’t have to avoid changing cats’ litter boxes.
Yes, I do realize that you’re an old (wo)man, but science can do amazing things these days, and you never know if your biological clock will suddenly start up. It’s best to be prepared, I always say.
Another vote for all the details on Orkin and your dog!
I’ve nothing insightful to add about your trials and tribulations, but this made me chuckle. I understand what you meant to say, but the way you said it was amusing.
Isn’t there a long history of death in, well, every family?
Awww… i was predicting that you went as an old Southern Woman for halloween. Damn!
We may need snacks while we wait. Peanut butter balls, anyone?
[Foghorn Leghorn voice] I say, that’s a joke, son. [/Foghorn]
Yo!
Since I’m having a super busy work night and the peanut butter story is fairly short, I’ll go with that one:
I used to work for a mental health clinic that had a free pharmacy, but it was limited in what it had (just stuff donated by drug companies mainly). One of our clients came in needing a prescription filled for her grandson who lived with her and was also a client. Of course she didn’t actually have the prescription with her, but she insisted it was for “Peanut Butter Balls”. Also, she wasn’t sure of her grandson’s surname- he’d had several over the years evidently- and she wasn’t sure how to spell his first name.
We kept asking her to repeat the drug name, because we could use that to pull up the kid’s name, and kept asking her to repeat the kid’s name so we could pull up the prescription. She insisted that the prescription was for “Peanut butter balls…”. Ma’am, you don’t need a prescription to get peanut butter…
“I know that, but these are in pill form. I don’t know how they make 'em, but they’re made from peanut butter. Peanut butter balls. It’s for his skeizures! If he doesn’t get the peanut butter balls he’s gone have skeizures!” She was losing patience with us.
We finally found the kid’s file. His name was something like Lfjafayiwxlwuz and pronounced Turner. And he did have a valid prescription on file for his skeizures: phenobarbitol.
