There is NOT one green living thing in my house. Not one. I used to have a house full of plants, waaay back, about ten years ago, and I got so tired of them staring at me, begging me for SOMETHING, that I pitched them, pot and all, in the garbage.I could no longer take the guilt,the feeling of one MORE responsibility, but I will never forget that day, I felt horrible. Horrible, I tell you. I was certain that they were all screaming "MURDERER!", in their little plant language. But I would walk by them, I had MOST of them on the shelf that runs up the stairway, where there is beautiful, warm light, and I could virtually HEAR them whispering "water...water". At that time, I had so many OTHER things on my TO DO list, that plant maintenance was pretty low. I can't be involved in anything, and not do it completely right. So, I went all postal on them, and threw them out. Now, I would like to try it again. I love the look of plants, and I think they would add a healthy component to an otherwise pretty stark living area. I am really not very good with living plants, I really do try, but I don't have the proverbial green thumb. I am not a gardener, either. I have always assumed that it was because I don't have the patience required for gardening. Perhaps it is a lack of the natural gardening instinct, whatever. But I think I might be ready for one little plant in one little pot. Maybe.
So, I survived the day yesterday. It sucked. And further confirmed that i hate doctors. Other than that, I know little else. I don't like being hurt, ummm yea, stupid thing to say. But I am pretty capable of handling pain. And i needed to handle it yesterday. The shocking went pretty well, it was mild. The needle was okay in my lower half, I could hardly feel it. It hurt like hell in my upper thigh,but it nearly sent me off the table when he stuck the damned thing in my back, and of course, that's where he felt the need to move it around, hold it there, you know....torture me a little more. But I managed. And then he decided that I wasn't normal. That I didn't FEEL things right. But like I told you yesterday before the torture, he already knew that. So, now I need an other MRI. Of my back. Whatever. New medication. But he needs to research things before he prescribes. What? Just so you know, this is not some new, wet behind the ears neurologist. He comes from the best (supposedly) group in the big city. I like him, or at least I did. But I don't fit into any category, and that's upsetting him. I have the issues of a diabetic, among other things, but I am not diabetic. Plus, when he gave me the old, "call me" routine (if you have any trouble...) I told him that i called him last time and was blown off. He didn't like that either. I wasn't being the slightest bit rude or nasty. I just told him the truth. Perhaps I should keep my mouth shut. I seem to have a little bit of trouble with that, particularly when I am paying, PAYING him, about five hundred dollars each ten minutes I see him. Okay, so the insurance company is paying him. And I am not so stupid to think that i am the highest priority on his list. I know that doctors have emergencies, and others that are waaaaay more critical than I. I have been that critical one in the past, and I appreciate that others have had to wait when it was me. But waiting EIGHT days to get back to me? Let me rephrase that, for his NURSE, to get back to me? Bullshit. So, don't tell me to call with any problems. AND, in a nutshell, I know little more than I did. No surprise there.
I get to work at my regular job today. I am quite behind, so much so that I don't know what the hell I need to do. Tomorrow and Friday, I have to sling ice cream. And now on Saturday, too. That's because I have to cover for H. Because he has to help YS and GF move. Once again. Poor H. Poor me. Anyone for a drink? It could be the only solution. I'm out of here.