What is it, Thursday already? Don’t answer that. I’m not sure what sort of relationship the calendar has with it’s mother, I won’t denigrate it, but this week has acted much like a motherfucker. The weird shit in the weird shit circle of my orbit of friends and family is looking to upgrade to weird-ass shit or bat shit crazy as a shit house rat. Weird-ass is more of a title than a diagnosis like bat shit or shit house rat, but it gets the point across.
Then there’s the orbit of sad, the orbit of medical issues, and the orbit of toxic furnaces. If I’m not really going to get into any of that why even pretend to write an entry? Well, I got a private note concerned that I’ve gone an unusually long time without checking in. Those aren’t the exact words or I’d beg a definition of unusual.
Unusual is a polite word, it’s like the other end of the shit house rat bell curve, same curve just with the benefit of doubt, as though something normal happened but in the usual way. Unusual is what you call a shit house rat with money and influence, unless they are a professor in which case they are eccentric. Eccentric isn’t really part of the bell curve, it’s almost a compliment in some circles. I suppose the same case could be made for unusual and yet without the cardigan with leather patches on the elbow unusual is closer to weird than eccentric.
Some intern internist asked me if I typed a lot because I said my shoulder hurt. I don’t really want to be touched by internists but I expect doctors and wanna be doctors to actually feel the area of complaint for injury and not ask dumbass questions. I honestly don’t know anyone who doesn’t type a lot although I know more that type exclusively with their thumbs these days than I have in days past.
Talking to that internist was a lot like doing a journal survey, the more questions the harder it is not to be a smart ass. With that question and my private note I answered and am now answering the truth with only a pinch of snark “ Nowhere near as often as I used too” She wrote it down in her cramped little hand. I didn’t use the adjective cramped to denigrate, it looked like she was practicing with her non-dominant hand, or, perhaps, she was much more familiar with typing. It looked uncomfortable and my answer was even less significant than the question.
I postponed seeing those people again so I could help a friend out. I may, in the near future, postpone them indefinitely. I would always rather help a friend out. It’s bad enough seeing doctors who do shit without also having to see doctors who don’t do shit. I knew this woman who was paid to be a patient for learning purposes. I would like that, not the pay necessarily, but the value of the critique.
Yeah, ok, I guess I don’t really have much to say. Gum and pallete hurt from where the novocaine went in.
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