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  • okay Weekly Newsletter. you know that part in the movie where Debra Winger is in the hospital and having pain and Shirley goes out all calm like and starts to try to get the nurses to listen to her and get her daughter some pain med and they are utterly oblivious to her request and she starts cranking up the volume and they are still clueless and blow her off and finally she screams out “GET MY DAUGHTER SOME PAIN MEDICINE SHE‘S HAVING PAIN!!!“...and they all stare at her like she’s a raving loon and she backs down and smooths a hand on her pants and slides off back into the room where Debra soon gets pain meds?  

Welcome to my morning.

I mean, all I wanted was someone on the medical end of things to communicate people so that I could get an appointment sooner rather than later because I feel like lukewarm snot trying to ooze myself through my days as I bleed through yet another pair of dark brown scrubs and try to hold myself upright as I loose another 1/2C. of blood in 5.2 secs. Is this unreasonable?? I mean, three months of this is making me just a leeeeeetle bit crazy and now I have the ultrasound pics to prove there is a NEED to GET THIS OUT OF ME and they're all like, "Oh, did your Dr. call our office?  I don't see...oh, ok.  Here it is.  YOu say she faxed us?  I don't see any fax.  Let me put you on hold [interminable wait time] Ma'am (MA'AM???) are you sure she faxed us the...oh, yes.  Here it is.  Hmmm, well, maybe we can see you in a week....."

Now, who amongst us would blame me for throwing on my black jeans, stuffing several tampons into my pockets, and heading out the door to go stand at their counter 20min later and ask to speak directly to the triage nurse and go over the results of the ultrasound (does cancer mean anything to YOU??) and let her know that SOONER means SOONER because LATER might be too LATE??? [hotflash, hotflash, hotflash]

I have an appointment at 3:00PM.  Today. [smooths a hand down her pants and slides out of the office....]


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