“A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs. It’s jolted by every pebble on the road.” -Henry Ward Beecher
I need a bit of humor to get through my day…especially since I haven’t slept and I’m listening to a grown man kvetch.
Here’s hoping you all have a wonderful Sunday.
“Silence is the sublime refuge of your divine. Silence exposes the highest potential for clarity. In silence there is a perfection which any toil injures. Silence is more than observation; it informs from non-observation. Only in stillness does the imperceivable become discernible. You will only find the profoundly inexpressible in profound silence.” —Bryant McGill
I’m posting this solely because I like the lyrics. I am not endorsing anything.
Having just started hour 63 into a migraine, I felt this was extremely apropos to share.
I often have to excuse myself into dark rooms so I can be sick in complete silence, or tell people I will call them back halfway through a conversation. Sometimes I don’t return a call for a week, or longer. That might seem rude to some, but in my mind, it’s a fact that I am actually sick and then recovering from being sick.
I am 100% “guilty” of wearing “JLo” sunglasses indoors (My brother often asks if I’m a Kardashian.) and in the dark of night to avoid bright lights, especially the fancier ones on late-model cars, which often make me ill. Hell, I wear them all winter when snow-blind is murderous to me, or when an extremely bright and/or cloudy day makes me nauseous.
I am hyper-sensitive to sound. You can whisper five rooms away from me, and if your tone is loud enough, it will still sound like a train inside my skull. Sometimes if Cat or Kitten are comforting me and their purrs are too loud, it will make a migraine so much wore. And yet, I watch NCAA basketball, hockey, NASCAR, baseball, and football with the sound often turned up. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Some sound triggers, others do not.
I avoid crowds and noise like the plague. But I don’t avoid my friends or avoid spending time with them when I am able.
“We hurt, we heal, and we prove to ourselves that we can survive.” -Keltie Colleen
It is the early morning hours of Thanksgiving Day here in the States. After spending hours preparing stuffing yesterday (which I highly suspect might suck today), I ended up with a highly stressful day which resulted in a migraine. That then turned into insomnia, which is the only reason I am awake at such an hour. Turns out, Patient X is not the only one in pain. 😦 Poor kid.
Lucky for him, he has a sister/maid who will go back to the hospital tomorrow to pick up a prescription and take it to the pharmacy on Black Friday, a day I avoid like the fucking plague because of the insanity that ensues, all because his doctor did not see fit to prescribe the appropriate amount of pain medication upon discharge. I thought it was an incredibly odd number seeing as how he’s supposed to take twelve pills a day until he’s healed enough to not be in such severe pain. He is healing, the swelling and bruising are almost fully gone, but he’s still in an incredible amount of pain. I couldn’t stand by as if it weren’t happened as the pills diminished.
I realize there are always pre-holiday emergencies, but it shouldn’t take a doctor’s office nearly twelve hours to return two phone calls where the words “pain management” are used. I find that unacceptable.
Moreover, not being able to call a prescription in to the pharmacy in an emergency simply because it is a controlled substance, even if it means faxing a hard copy from your office or sending the hard copy via FedEx, is a major time and energy drain on caregivers. I realize doctors and PAs are busy covering their own asses on this shit, that patients do NOT come first, but it makes me angry that my brother is in severe pain and that I, in my agony, have no choice but to schlep somewhere I don’t want to be in order to get the appropriate medication for him. It should have been done correctly the first time, except now, I am going to be fully present and since his voice still isn’t better, they’re going to have to put up with mine, and oh, how loud can I go?!
The physician’s assistant was the epitome of rude, dismissive, and unprofessional (I’d like to think she’s just stupid and/or had a stressful day that she would have preferred to be spending somewhere else with family, but I was then informed that she’s always like that, so I knew it wasn’t simply my perception.) and proceeded to lecture me on post-op appointment scheduling. Excuse me; I’m NOT his secretary. I was not handed the discharge papers, so outside of dispensing medication and doing a plethora of other things that contribute to my misery, I am also supposed to be a mind-reader. News flash: There’s no such thing as mind-readers. Also, the job of physician’s assistant to a surgeon is basically glorified prescription pad, especially when you don’t know how to communicate with people as if they’re human-beings. Instead of wasting time acquiring healthcare experience before entering the three year program, I strongly suggest going to medical school and then try giving me attitude. I get to say this because it’s the truth. If you happen to be a PA and you’re reading this, I can only hope you treat people the way you’d want to be treated and don’t hang up on people mid-sentence. When you work with the public in any form, it is crucial to be courteous and respectful. For the record, I said nothing to warrant the ‘tude. If anything, I was overly polite and respectful. I won’t make that mistake again.
Is it convenient that they only see patients on Tuesdays? No. Instead of being able to enjoy some semblance of a holiday weekend this snit tells me to “call on Friday to get him into the office on the 1st”. Because apparently, Lisa has no life of her own and can drop everything on Tuesday so as to miss her own doctor’s appointment. I would like to know precisely when I entered a life of servitude. I wonder if there’s a uniform…
At this point I can only assume I am over-tired, hungry, feeling the effects of the Full Moon (If anyone else saw it rise last night, was it uncharacteristically enormous?), and/or in desperate need of hitting something. It might very well be a combination of all of the above. I can deal with that because it’s honest.
However, to add insult to injury, Patient X is running a fever and might very well need to return to the hospital tomorrow to be certain he does not have another post-op infection. If he does have another infection (which would be lucky number three), I will be on the 10 o’clock news in the Philadelphia area demanding that this hospital be investigated.
I wish I were able to set aside real life and focus solely on fiction (it’s a far better world on paper, as is often the case), but sometimes a writer has to be supremely real and not gloss the serious shit over. I may not currently be writing about NaNoWriMo, WIP’s, my experience editing this or that, or spewing nonsense, but at the beginning and end, I’m going to be real. I’d rather be respected for that side of me than have someone fuss over something completely unimportant.
There’s no rest for the wicked. Only the good die young, so I’m going to be here forever!
Wishing everyone stateside & all members of our Armed Forces a Happy Thanksgiving. To everyone else in this world; have an amazing Thursday where your priorities in life supersede all the bullshit.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.