Tag Archives: doctor

I don’t murder people. And, oh, a picture of a cat!

Most of you (that may or may not still be with me at this point) are probably wondering where I’ve been. It’s been a weird past few weeks. Of course. This is me we’re talking about. I just didn’t want any of you to think I’d forgotten I have a blog. I didn’t.

I’ve just had this nosebleed thing going on. Like where my nose just starts bleeding & won’t stop. Then I look like I murdered an entire country & things get really ugly after that. Apparently, I busted some blood vessel in my nose & well, its causing me some issues. And tissues. Anyway, it’s caused my energy level to be really low & I’ve been feeling kinda lousy & my face has been sorta swelly. You get the idea. Not pretty. Literally.

Now that we’re done talking about gross things I can show you a picture of Maya! Yay! Ending on a cute note!

More pics are probably to come? I don’t know. She hates when my camera goes “click”. She also gets all diva on me when I try to get pictures of her. We’ll see.

Hope all is well in your world,


I had the sex talk with my dad yesterday. At age 25.

Yea, for the first time ever. My dad & I are not the type of people to talk about serious things. We have the same sense of humor (& nose) so we always end up in humourous conversations. We avoid serious talk at all costs. Always. Until yesterday.

I’m still on my dad’s health insurance until I turn the ripe old age of 26. He figured by then either J-Bird or I would have a (real) job that actually offered health benefits (fat chance), so he agreed to keep me on his insurance even after I got married. Yesterday my dad called me on my lunch break to let me know that he had received a letter from my doctor that he thought was supposed to go to me, but he didn’t know that until after he opened it.

I’m on several medications, so of course I hoped that it was regarding my iron pills. My dad’s uncomfortable tone told a different story, The, uh, letter says that your, you know…BC pills aren’t covered by the insurance. Yea. He actually said “BC”. Oh, I knew that. I’m sorry that they sent that to you. I told my doctor that they weren’t covered, so they shouldn’t have even tried. I tried to play it cool. Well, if they just say it’s for your you know and not for the other stuff that you’re using it for than they might cover it. I’m surprised I was keeping up with this conversation. Dad, I’ve been on birth control for 5 years for my heavy you know. It’s not a big deal. It originally had nothing to do with the other stuff. Great. Now he knows I have sex. Not that he couldn’t have assumed. But I’d have rather it stayed that. An assumption.

So, yea, Dad, uh…did you get that email I sent? I attached some of my photography.

This is why I steer clear of serious conversations with my dad. And I never got the sex talk as a kid.


I’ve been shot by cupid…oh, wait, that was just my doctor.

I’ve been getting treatments once a month for some time now over an ahem…medical condition that requires a shot in the butt. 3 shots to be exact. It just so happens that this month’s treatment fell on V-day, thus my morning is already off to an eventful start.

I got up bright & early, actually, scratch the bright because it was still dark out when I got up. I wanted to make sure I was nice & clean if a doctor was going to be looking at my nether regions this morning. Not that he probably judges, as I have the medical conditions of an 85 year old woman, so that’s probably what he sees throughout the day. At least, that’s what I tell myself to make it all better.

Nonetheless, I arrived at the doctor’s office 3 mintues early, signed in & started watching The Weather Channel on the nice big screen TV. They had a cheesy animated cupid floating around, mocking me. How fitting.

When the nurse called me back, she walked me down the long hallway & put me in the exam room with the comment, I’m sure you know what to do by now, Mrs. Grimes. I nodded. I pulled my pants down to my knees, sighed, & laid down on the exam chair, covering my bottom half with the giant see-through paper towel that they give you.

Then, the waiting game. It felt like forever, but in reality it was only like 5 minutes. I stared around the room. Green textured wallpaper. Ugly. Stacks of latex gloves in every size humanly possible. Soap with the brand name Enhance. Weird. Conversations from the next room over. Wow, that guy’s worse off than me. Momentarily feeling better. Then, a knock at the door with a preggo nurse & my doctor.

The shots themselves aren’t painful, mildly uncomfortable, but I chatted with the doctor about how clumsy I normally am (wtf?), then he told me this would be my last visit. Excitement. No more shots. He said I got to graduate today! Yay!

So, there you have it. My already eventful morning of getting shot by cupid my doctor.


The Hearse, Part 2, apparently.

I was really hoping there wouldn’t be a part 2 to this story. I you missed part 1, click here. So, again on my commute (this time in the middle of the afternoon) I got behind a hearse. What the hell is going on here?! Well at least this one had curtains, & no dignity this time (well in the type sense). This one looked like it stepped straight out of the 80’s & onto the road…all boxey with the paint peeling off. Ick. I don’t think that seeing a hearse is that common on my commute to work…I’ve never noticed before. Maybe I’m just being uber paranoid. Now, I’m waiting for something bad to happen.

Speaking of bad omens, I had to go to the doctor this morning to get my blood drawn & I’m pretty sure the bear of a nurse that did it just stabbed the needle in my arm then amputated. At least, that’s what it felt like.

Sorry for the morbid post.



Urgent Care: Ghetto Edition, Rims Included

If you’ve been keeping up with my twitter updates, you know I’ve been sick. It all started Thursday morning with a stuffy nose, body aches, fever…you know, the works. Since my job doesn’t allow for me to call out, I went to work. Thursday, Friday & Saturday. By Saturday evening I was convinced I had something worse than the common cold like cancer. Or strep throat.

So, J-bird & I sat out to find the only urgent care open after I got off work Saturday evening. In the middle of the ghetto. It was in the same building as a store that sold rims. Yes, as in RIMS TO GO ON THE TIRES OF YOUR CADILLAC. It was pouring down rain as we ran into the building with a neon sign flashing “open”. The girl at the front look pissed we were there, but she asked how I was doing. Seriously? How the hell do you think I’m doing, bimbo? Fanflippintastic. Anyway, I filled out the paperwork as the girl joked around with some guy behind the glass. They were laughing loudly and having a terrific time. The nurse called me back (yes, we were the only people there) after only a few minutes. The nurse looked to be younger than me…by a few years. Making her what? 20?

Anyway, I told her my symptoms, she told me they’d do a few tests & the doctor would tell me the results. They took us to the examination room…which looked like it was straight from one of the Saw movies. And to make matters worse? The walls were poop green. I mean, who choose that color? They couldn’t just go with light grey or something? They had to do a pee test, which is the worst. I pee’d halfway in the cup, halfway all over my hand in this tiny little shithole bathroom. Then I forgot what the nurse told me what to do with the cup when I was finished, so I wondered around the hallways looking for her, carrying my own pee. When I couldn’t find her anywhere (or anyone, for that matter), I was pretty sure we were about to be murdered, so I went to find J-bird. He gives me his blank stare, Why are you carrying your pee? I shrug. I can’t find the nurse and I don’t know what she told me to do with it. I mean, there was a table near the bathroom, was I supposed to leave it there? Now he’s giving me his crazy look. Well it depends on the kind of table it was. Did it have a lamp & flowers on it or did it have like medical stuff on it? I think I have a migraine. Does this look like a flower-&-lamp kinda place to you? Here. Take my pee back over there. I’m too weak to walk. He doesn’t move. I’m not touching that cup.

About that time, the nurse reappears from killing other patients to test the pee & swab me for strep. The doctor walks in a few minutes later, pokes me…then says I have a sinus infection. Sure, if he says so. I’m on antibiotics & the road to recovery. Oh, & now I know where to get some sweet rims for my ride.