Yesterday was just one of those days...You know, the ones where everything goes to hell in a hand basket in a matter of moments. I woke up in the morning at 4:05 to my alarm and immediately had a headache. I was tempted to call into work and use my sick time, but I didn't because I wasn't really sick and knew I could last the day if I needed to. Instead, I dragged my ass out of bed and got ready for work. I left at the same time I usually do every morning and headed in. Before I even got to the freeway, I almost hit a car who decided to turn left in front of me...you know...when I was RIGHT in front of him. I hit my breaks and honked at him because I'm sure that really does something. I mean, like it'd be more effective if when I hit the horn, the truck yelled out, "FUCK YOU!" But the little "beep" just doesn't convey how pissed I am when I actually hit the horn. But I digress...
So, I hit the freeway and settle in at a lovely pace of like 75-80 mph. Who doesn't drive that fast, right? I rocked out to Adele and whatever else was on the radio as I tried to get myself into the right frame of mind to deal with people all day. C'mon, no one wants my job. The moment I tell people I work in a call center, they're immediately like, "Oh man...You deal with assholes all day." Funny they should mention that...Because it's true! I've said it a hundred times, but I'll say it again-- If I didn't have cool co-workers, I would've lost my mind by now. Sometimes, they're the only ones who keep me sane because we all laugh and joke between calls. Anyway, so I got to work and went inside to start my day. I was immediately greeted by an email from an unknown co-worker saying that a card holder was requesting me to call him back. *rolls eyes* I had left a message for the guy regarding an issue he was having with a merchant. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything we could do about it and honestly, I was happy when I got his voicemail because I hate being the messenger. So, now I would have to call him back and have the discussion with him about how we couldn't do anything for him. *rolls eyes* That just sucks. I logged in and started my day of taking calls and shortly after starting (it was slow), we had to pick up the slack for the consumer reps so we were taking calls for personal card holders. Man, it's hard talking to the business owners sometimes, but the general public is even worse...How do these people get out of bed and go out into the world each and every day without...wearing a safety helmet? I am worried about society.
At almost noon, I was thinking I might take some sick time and leave early because I was just worn out and done...And then I got in some surveys. I hate surveys. They are not clearly worded enough to tell people that it's not to be used to complain about how you feel about our company, but how your interaction was with the employee you spoke to. I guess people might still use it as a complaint hot line of sorts even if it was worded correctly, but it just sucks. I listened to the two calls from the bad surveys and neither call was bad. The one woman had even ended our call with saying, "Heather, you've been excellent! I appreciate all your help!" But then when she rated me in the survey, she gave me a less than stellar score. Like I just want to call these people back and tell them, "Thanks, asshole, you just cost me a big chunk of my bonus because you either don't understand English or you are a sick individual that likes to fuck with people!" At that point in time, I was done. I took a couple more calls and then took my sick time and left an hour early. I was so mad I could cry. I wanted to go get some fro yo (frozen yogurt) and go home and take a nap. I didn't want the frozen yogurt because I was upset, but just because it had sounded good long before my day had gone to hell.
I walked out into hell (also known as "outside" here in AZ) and was immediately struck by how freaking hot it was. It was like 102* and humid. Blech! I called Phoenix to tell her I was leaving and as I got into my truck, burning my fingers on my steering wheel, I started it and immediately saw the my front passenger tire was low. I got out and looked to find...*drum roll*...That's right a fucking flat tire. FABULOUS! I'm so excited. I was thinking that maybe I could slowly drive to the gas station near my work (like across the street and through a big parking lot) to put air in it and then go to a tire shop to get it fixed. I slowly pulled out and realized that it wasn't just flat, but super flat. I pulled into the back part of our parking lot where there was space and thought that maybe I'd change it, but then I remembered that my truck has 22" rims on it and only the standard jack, which won't put it up high enough to remove the tire. I know this because I had a Silverado in the past with bigger tires (not bigger rims, just bigger tires) and the jack didn't work. I learned that when I was 50 miles away from home. Good times. Anyway, so I call Statefarm to ask if I have road side assistance, which I thought I did. They said I did and had their road side assistance call me to get me set up with someone to come help me. YAY! While waiting for them, I drove very slowly and carefully out of our parking lot and across the street because my work is crazy tight with security. At almost 2, the road side assistance guy showed up. He looked pissed and was not at all nice to me. Seriously? I'm the one having a bad day, what the fuck is his problem? I don't like my job either, but at least people can't see me scowling. He takes off the cover on my rim and says, "Where's the key for the lug nut?" Turns out I never got the key for my locking lug nuts. He hands me the cover for the rim and says, "You'll need a tow truck to come get you. Call your road side assistance and have them get you help. I can't change this tire." He stalked off, still pissed, got into his air conditioned car, and drove off. I just stood there, breathing, and thinking horrible thoughts. I refrained from kicking my truck...He made me so angry. As I got back into my truck, the road side assistance called to ask if he'd shown up. I said, "Yes, but he just left. He can't change the tire." So, they sent a tow truck, which took some time. During that time, I called the dealership and after being transferred to everybody and their mama, I finally talked to a manager about the missing key. He said if I bring my truck down there, they'll give me new locking lugs. I still need to take care of that, but it pisses me off. What if I had been on my way to Cali and this happened???
In the meantime, Phoenix shows up with her niece Goofy. We were going to go get Fro Yo together, but now I'm stuck. As they roll up, apparently Phoenix said something funny to Goofy, Goofy unrolls the window and is laughing wildly. I think she's laughing at me because that's what it looks like, so when I chuckle (her laughter is contagious) and tell her she's mean, she only giggles more for like 2 or 3 minutes. I still think she was laughing at my misfortune, but Phoenix says she wasn't...But can't remember what it was she said to make her laugh in the first place. Mmmmhmmm...Anyway, so they left to go pick up the baby from daycare and then come back. So, the tow truck drive shows up. He was this awesome guy, Bruce. He quickly got me taken care of and when I told him that Statefarm had suggested a Goodyear Tire (Although, when I called Goodyear to tell them I would be coming with my truck, the guy was a total douche! He was all, "It'll be $48.50 to break the lock off. It usually takes a half an hour of labor. It's really just easier if you had a key." Well, duh, mother fucker! I didn't ask how much, I said that I needed the lock broken off!) place, he said, "Discount is better. If it's a nail, they fix it for free. And if you need tires, they're cheap and honest." I like Discount Tires and usually get my tires from them, but I didn't know where one was. He said he'd take me and my truck there for no extra charge. Seriously, he was amazing! He chatted with me the whole time, which helped to lighten my mood because I was just pissed.
This story gets better...At Discount Tire, the guy says, "When did this blow out?" I said, "It didn't blow out. I drove to work this morning and then came out to find it flat." He said, "No, this blew out. Look!" He pointed to the tire and there was all this steel belt showing, as though the tire had ripped apart on the inside of the tire. WTF? Then we go and look at the driver side tire...It's nearly as bad, but hasn't given out. The two back tires had chunks, again on the inside, that were showing the steel belt. What the hell??? I just had my tires rotated like a month and a half ago or two months ago. He asked, "Did they tell you anything about this?" I told him they didn't and he said, "This didn't just happen over night...It takes time to wear it down like that. Your truck has an alignment problem." Oh goody. *rolls eyes* So, now this is no longer fixing one tire, but all four because the other three could blow out at any time. I'm not stupid. I'm not messing around with fucked up tires in the hot Arizona summer which causes blowouts anyway. He looks in the system and says, "The best price I have for your size tires is..." I think I blacked out for a moment...Tires are fucking expensive! 22" rims look cool, but they fucking suck ass! It was nearly $1100 for four tires. *cries like a baby* Do you know what I could do with $1100??? I called Phoenix and she was like, "Ask if you qualify for their credit card." I mean, I could've put it on my credit card (Or maybe split it between two...), but since I was there, I couldn't pull it up on my computer to see how much I had available. Anyway, so luckily, I qualified and I have 9 months to pay it off with no interest. YAY! Again, another bright little spot in my shitty day. Another bright spot was that this happened while I was at work. I just got back from California last Sunday afternoon. This could've happened when we were driving all over Southern California. And in two weeks, I'm going back to Cali for a wedding. This could've gotten ugly. I'm glad it happened when it did, but it still sucks balls...
While waiting for the tires, we went to walk around Sam's Club to spend more money we don't have and then went to get my truck. When we finally left, I called my mom to tell her about my bad day and she says, "Weird that you called me right now. We just walked into the hippo exhibit." Say what? I'm having a hellish day and my mom is bringing up the fucked up nickname that I was given in middle school?? Yup, I'm Hippo Heather. As though to make me feel better, she texted me this picture...
Nice, right? Yeah, I love my mom...*rolls eyes*
Since my friend Texas was having a pretty shitty day too and had texted me that she needed a drink, I suggested (After Phoenix said I should) that we could go get dinner. We ended up at Red Robin (Yummmmmm!) because it's a kid-friendly place where our baby and her's as well, could be loud and no one would really care. I ordered my usual Guacamole Burger and asked for a side of jalapenos. The bad waitress (Why is it so hard to find good service anymore???) brought me fresh cut jalapenos instead of the pickled ones. Man, they were fucking hot. Like my lips and mouth burned like fire. Then the story gets better. After eating, my eyes were itching (allergies) and I proceeded to remove my glasses and rub my eyes. Apparently, I still had jalapeno juice on my hands or something despite having used my napkin repeatedly. Yes, my eyes started burning like fire...No, like acid...No, like fiery acid. It hurt so bad. I went to the bathroom and rinsed out my eyes after listening to them joke that they probably had an eye wash station in the kitchen. In the bathroom, this old lady came out of a stall and washed her hands. As she started to walk out, she looked at me in the mirror and became concerned. "Are you okay, honey? Is everything okay?" I couldn't help but laugh. I said, "Yes. I'm fine, but thank you for asking." She asked, "Are you sure?" Of course, I now owed her an explanation. I said, "Yes, ma'am, I had some jalapenos with my dinner and without thinking, I rubbed my eye." She then told me a story about her sister doing something similar while eating pepperoncinis. She told me the burning would eventually stop. I thought it was nice that she asked if I was all right. Most people don't care anymore. I decided right then and there to call it a day. Texas joked that I should come with caution tape or something. Haha...I suppose. I came home and even though I wanted to read or do something, I ended up going to bed. It was better to just get the day over with and be done with it before anything else could go wrong. Thankfully, today is a new day and perhaps a better day...*crosses fingers*
So, I went in yesterday for my ultrasound. I was totally freaked out about it and I probably shouldn't have gone to work at all yesterday because I was in no mood at all to deal with people. It was a VERY rough morning. I actually sort of laid into some guy who was being a dick for no reason. I mean, like if you are a jackass with a good reason, then I get it, but don't call in and start being an asshole for no reason. This guy calls in and right from the get go he's pissed because I have to ask him a security question to get into his account. Well, when he gives me his phone number, it doesn't match what we have, so I say, "Could it be a different number?" He starts going off on me. Finally, he answers a different question, but he demands I tell him the number we have. Unfortunately, we can only verify that sort of stuff and cannot release it. Hello, that's how fraudsters get half their info. I've actually listened to calls with fraudsters calling in pretending to be card holders and they're good. They trick people into giving out info and because of that, we just can't release anything. But I digress...So, I tell him, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. We can only verify. I can fix it though so we have the right info, but I can't tell you what it said." Lots of people get pissed about this, but they don't get why we can't tell them. I'm sure 99% percent of the people I talk to are really who they say they are, but it only takes one, right? Mr. Jackass starts going off on me again, telling me I'm a moron and that he DEMANDS that I give him that info. Oh, well, since you demanded, by all means, let me break the rules for you...Ummm...no. I tell him, "I can't." We went round and round for a while, until people on my team are like, "Uh oh..." I was getting very frustrated and my old cubie, Texas, was warning everyone that I was likely to toss my mouse at any moment. I'll admit I've tossed my mouse a few times when people piss me off. Anyway, as he keeps going on and on, I finally cut him off and say, "Look, it's against the rules. I cannot tell you this information. If I could, I would. This is a recorded call and if I told you, I would lose my job. I am not losing my job to tell you the phone number we have on file!" He asked for my supervisor...*shrugs* Whatever. My team leader took the call and the guy told him that I had been aggravating him. Apparently, my team leader aggravated him too because he hung up on my boss. lol I usually try to remain calm, but I lost it. After that, I didn't really recover. Luckily, I got off work early and came home to hide out for a while...
I went to my ultrasound and part of me was relieved to just go get it done, but another part of me was freaked out. Of course, luck had it that it was a man who was doing it, but he was super nice. I will say that he helped keep me calm when I really just wanted to lose it in the beginning. He explained everything and before we got started, he talked to me about why I was there and I explained I had a period of Biblical proportions (Not in those words) and he said that all kinds of women get fibroids that can cause bleeding and it's almost sort of normal. I felt a little better. He started the ultrasound by just pushing down on the outside of me and then he excused me to go use the bathroom, which was great. When I came back, we got down to business, which wasn't all that bad...I mean, it wasn't enjoyable, but it was better than a sharp stick in my eye. (And really, how bad would something have to be to say that a sharp stick in the eye would be the better option?) A female nurse came in, I guess to make sure everything was all right, but I sort of laughed when he said she was our chaperone. It just struck me as funny...Perhaps because I was so uncomfortable by the entire situation. Anyway, so he starts and he would move the wand and then click a button on the computer to snap a picture and this is how it went-- move, click, move, click, move, click...This went on for a couple of minutes and then suddenly the wand stopped. I looked at the screen trying to figure out what changed. There was something on there, but unfortunately, I studied English, which qualifies me to...umm...perhaps it qualifies me to write this blog, but probably little else. So then I look at him and he angled the wand a different way and then he clicks. And then he starts typing in random shit that means nothing to me and he highlights something on the screen and then types more. What the fuck is it? Some little voice in the back of my head whispers one words..."Cancer." Fuck you, voice, I think angrily as I look back at the screen. He clicks a few more times in the same area, barely moving the wand and suddenly I am picturing a cancerous tumor the size of a softball in my uterus. Like angry little cancerous cells flipping off the wand as he snaps pictures. I am instantly convinced that my female parts are turning against me and I am dying...I guess we're all dying, right? One day at a time, we're all moving towards death...But I am convinced mine is being rapidly sped up. I am wishing I had never smoked. (And no, for those of you wondering...I did not smoke out of my vagina. A friend asked this the other day and it made me laugh so hard. I really needed it.) I am wondering if rough sex can cause cancer. Who knows? (And no, that was by no means any sort of admission about my sexual activities or lack there of!) But at that moment I am thinking maybe it can. I am wondering if I wore the wrong underwear. Maybe wearing all those flannel shirts and listening to alternative/grunge rock during the 90s caused it. Who the hell knows? But I just know something I did caused this and I'm dying. I'm 32 and I'm dying.
What was worse was that the guy stopped talking! He had been chatting along the way and then nothing! WHAT THE FUCK IS IT!? Of course I don't even bother to ask him because I know they aren't allowed to say anything unless it's immediately life threatening and then they are probably like, "Go straight to the hospital. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Oh wait...Stop at the front desk and pay, and then go to the hospital." *grins* Anyway, so I laid there on the little bed waiting for it to be over and trying not to cry because I was irrationally scared. Finally, the guy was done and let me get dressed. He met me in the hall to walk me out where he patted my shoulder and said, "Best of luck to you." Best of luck to me? What the fuck am I--Dead Woman Walking? BEST OF LUCK!? WHAT DID HE SEE IN THERE!? Was the Devil hanging out in my vagina? Is it a fibroid? Is it cancer? WHAT IS IT!?
When I told my mom and Phoenix about this, they both insinuated that I have a wild imagination. Well duh! This is why I shouldn't have to have these types of tests that take time. I want instant answers because otherwise my mind goes wild. I just want to know what's going on so I can stop thinking my vag is trying to kill me...No one likes a killer vag...So, please keep your fingers crossed and all that until I find something out. I know that it's hard to write like that, so if you mentally cross them, I'd be okay with that. *grins* All right...I have to head to bed. Four in the morning sure comes early...I've turned into an old lady. Peace out until next time...
So, I should probably be upstairs in my room cleaning out my closet because there are random odds and ends on the floor in there that need to be picked up since I am requesting someone from my home warranty company to come check out my AC, which is partly in the attic and, of course, the attic access is in my closet. *rolls eyes* Instead, I'm sitting here in front of my laptop, a fan blowing cool air through my short hair, and blasting some Adele. *grins* I love this song...
I wish I could sing like Adele...I'd sing 24/7. Who the hell are we kidding? I sing anyway. Who cares if I can't carry a tune in a bucket? Not I!
This isn't the point of the blog...Nope, I wanted to keep everyone in the loop. I had blood work done last week when I went to see the gyno or, as my mom calls them, the Vagina Doctor. No word yet regarding the blood work, but the doctor is making me go get a pelvic ultrasound. This does not sound like fun to me...like at all. I called to schedule it today and they're getting me in tomorrow and the lady says, "Oh! There's one instruction I have to give you. You need to drink 32 ounces of water before you come in and finish that by 1:30 because your appointment is at 2:30. It takes one hour for water to travel from your lips to your bladder and you need to have a full bladder." Say what!? It's not my bladder bleeding! Do they want me to pee on them? Are they into golden showers? If so, there are people who will do that willingly for them...They're are probably even places you can go to get that done...Not that I know, but I assume. Like isn't it enough that I have to be degraded enough to have them put that thing in me, but now they want me to have to pee at the same time? There's something not right about the medical profession...
Speaking of which, the first thing the doctor told me when I saw her was that I need to lose weight because being overweight can cause irregular periods. Okay, I get it, but it's not like I woke up one morning obese. "Good morning, honey--OH SHIT! YOU'RE FAT!" I mean, come on...My weight, despite being overweight, has been a pretty constant number for a while now. Of course though, that's their go-to thing. Then she starts telling me about birth control options. Hi, I'm a lesbian. I shouldn't need to think about birth control options. I practice the ultimate birth control--Sex with another woman. *grins* Apparently, birth control can regulate my periods...Great, but this isn't a normal occurrence. I mean, I don't want them to find anything, but there's got to be something that's causing it. By the way, the correct number was 42. For 42 days I had my period. I believe this makes my period something for the record books. That's bleeding of Biblical proportions! God made it rain for 40 days and 40 nights to cleanse the earth...And I bled for 42 days and 42 nights to cleanse my Vag. *laughs* Oh man...I'm going to hell for sure. And before that, Phoenix is going to smack me for comparing myself to God. *ducks to avoid lightning bolt from the sky* C'mon, God has got to have a sense of humor...
So yeah, for now, the bleeding has stopped and tomorrow I get to be violated by a stranger while I have to pee. Life is s-uh-weet! In the midst of all this sweetness going on, I am still a little concerned. I mean, the doc and everyone else seems to think bleeding for 6 weeks of my life is all right, but I'm not so sure. I'm a little more worried now because I don't know what's going on. I don't know if on some level I'm freaking myself out and making myself a nervous wreck, which is causing me stomach pains and other issues...Or if I truly had food poisoning from Black Angus when I went out to dinner on Friday night...Or if these are new symptom of what's going on. I get hungry, but when I eat, my stomach hurts and I can't eat much. It could be nerves. I could be freaking myself about this and not paying attention to it because I'm concerned with my performance at work and despite all the sales I've had so far this month, my boss is still looking for more. Before I started this team, I struggled to hit my goal of 100 points in sales a month. Then this guy is like, "I want you to hit two hundred." I laughed, but he wasn't kidding. So, last month I hit 267 points. This month, I'm already at 280 points and it's barely the 12th. *rolls eyes* Yes, it's nice for the extra dough, but it's stressing me out...And I'm sleeping like shit...And...well, I guess you all get it. I just want to know why my body is rebelling against me. I need things to function normally again.
On a side note, the two girls we've had for nearly the last year are transitioning back home to their dad. They leave tomorrow night for a week long visit. They'll come back next Wednesday night to stay for one night before going back again. I don't know who comes up with this, but whatever...I'm not sad to see them go...I didn't grow attached. And as though to encourage me not to miss them, tonight after dinner, little Hurricane was sitting at the table eating a leftover piece of birthday cake and apparently peed. And I'm talking like flooded. She's mostly potty trained, but must've thought it'd be cool to pee on the chair. She peed through her pull-up, her shorts, onto her booster seat, onto the actual chair, and created a puddle under her chair. Of course, cleaning up pee off my kitchen floor is EXACTLY what I like to do after dinner. My kitchen floor has now been swept and mopped and the chair was taken outside and sprayed down by the hose. Yup...Kids...Someone has to love them.
Okay, enough procrastinating....Time to head upstairs and clean before bed. But one more song before I go...I love this song...
Anyway, wish me luck...Say prayers...Think happy thoughts...I hope everything turns out okay. I'd feel better if I could shake this nearly overwhelming sense of doom. So, on that note...Peace out. I'll keep you all posted about how my ultrasound goes...I still want to know what sick bastard thought, "Hey! Let's make the girls come in with full bladders!! That'll make it better!" Fucking morons...*shakes head*
It's been a while again and I've been meaning to blog, but things get in the way...like playing World of Warcraft, watching Doctor Who (I LOVE LOVE LOVE that show!), and well, life, I suppose. I guess I shouldn't let those things get in the way, but they always seem to. I haven't been writing like at all lately. There's just so much going on that I don't know where to start...I guess we'll have to start at the beginning...
Not so long ago, in a little hospital in California, a young girl of only 17 gave birth to the cutest little red headed girl with hazel eyes that has ever lived...No, I'm not talking about Emma Stone, you ass monkey! It's me! I'm not even sure she has hazel eyes...But I digress. Okay, let's get into this and we'll go from there. So, at work they did a shift bid. I was super stressed about it because 1) I'm not a rock star at my job so I didn't have the greatest numbers in the world and 2) I was scared to get a different boss. We all get comfy where we are and it's scary to go to someone else. Like I can't stand bosses who micromanage. Let me do my thing and leave me alone, you know? Needless to say, this was literally causing me sleepless nights and headaches. What this also caused, and this is not for the faint of heart, so if you're a dude, you may not want to keep reading, a missed period. I'm gay though and missed periods don't really worry me that much. It happens sometimes. If you're straight you worry because you're like, "Oh shit! Am I preggers???" I don't have that concern...Unless Phoenix needs to tell me something...*shifty eyes* But seriously, I was stressed and then to add to the stress, we got another kid. A one year old baby who loves screaming over everything and anything. He's adorable when he's happy and smiling, but he's the devil when he's screaming. Like he will just scream and scream and scream until you're pretty sure you're going to lose your mind...Or maybe that's just how I feel. It's hard though. It's hard to like the little guy when he just screams and nothing will make him happy. *sigh* Seriously, I sometimes question my sanity for taking on all these kids with Phoenix (Not in a bad way, but it's hard, you know? I mean, these are kids someone else screwed up and we're trying to make it better somehow.). Although, she usually makes me question my sanity for a variety of reasons, so this shouldn't surprise me either. lol
So, yeah, there I am...New kid, plus the two girls who are still slowly transitioning to going back to their dad (Any day now! *fingers crossed*), going to a new team at work, and WHAM! My period shows up. Thanks for showing up, Aunt Flo! The problem is, she hasn't left. I started sometime around the 27 or 28 of April. Go ahead and look at a calendar and you'll see the problem. I spent the entire month of May bleeding to death slowly...Okay, maybe not to death...not yet, anyway. And I swear I'm not a zombie. *"Brains! Brains!" drags one foot and walks with arms out* But it won't stop. At first, I thought, "Oh, well, I missed one and maybe it's going to be a little longer than usual." But then two weeks became three and I was like, "This is bullshit." Then three became four and I was a little worried. Then it stopped for a day and I cheered! YES! Finally! And then it started the very next day again. Finally, after much encouragement from nearly everyone I know, I went to the doctor. I had tried not to think of the bad things it could be, but then I went to the doctor and the nurse's jaw dropped when I said, "I've been on my period for almost 5 weeks." She looked concerned. She asked, "Was it okay before? Is this the first time this has happened?" I said, "Yes, it's been fine. But isn't that the way it goes--Everything is all right until it's not?" Then the doctor came in and when I told her that, she said, "That's not good!" She then launched into a list of things that could be causing the bleeding...The list included cysts (not good), early on-set menopause (Are you fucking kidding me?), cancer (WTF?), etc...So, of these, cysts is the one I'm rooting for. My doctor didn't do anything for me. She said, "You need to see a gyno and soon!" Seriously? That's all you've got, doc? What the fuck?
I drove home, trying not to worry about the things it could be and made an appointment with a gyno, which I go to tomorrow. (It's been like 38 days now. I'm so over Aunt Flo. This bitch needs to go!) I have spent the last week trying not to freak out, but even the gyno's receptionist was like, "You've been on it how long? Oh honey, that's not okay!" I'm trying to be brave, I swear I am, but it's hard. It could be something really stupid and I'll get fixed right up. But at this point in time, I'm so tired. I'm not just like sick of the whole situation, but I am exhausted. I feel so worn out and I go to work and people call in and are like, "I can't believe you charged me interest! I should cancel my card!" And I just want to be, "I'm slowly bleeding to death, you fucking asshole! Cancel your account! I don't give a fuck!" Of course, I don't say those things, but I just sit there thinking, "Why are you screaming at me over $2? Seriously, there are worse things going on." But these people don't get it. They're so unhappy with everything and they want to take it out on me and all I can do is sit there and try to help them and ignore that little voice in the back of my head...The one that whispers to me when I'm alone..."You know, it might be cancer. Cigarettes cause all kinds of cancers." And I try to shush the voice, but it creeps back, "Signs of uterine cancer include bleeding." If you're wondering, there's a few types of cancer that can cause bleeding like I've had.
On a side note, I had to fill out a bunch of crap for the gyno and check out this question...
Dude, wtf? I mean, really?
And how about this one--
How did they know I was an accident!? My mom thinks they're asking if I was in an accident at any time, but I'm not so sure about that...It asked right after the adoption question! C'mon, that's a loaded question right there!!
But anyway, it's really hard to stay brave and to think happy thoughts when you're friends keep asking if you're okay and they look concerned. I mean, if it's nothing, then no one should be concerned, right? I'm probably just going through menopause at the ripe old age of 32. I mean, that's normal, right? WRONG! It's not normal! It's not normal to bleed like this for 5 1/2 weeks! It picked up over the weekend and now it's all I can do to keep it from getting everywhere. I know, it's graphic and I'm sorry, but this fucking sucks. I feel like I should be running around wearing Depends or something. And I have to go to work where I'm tied to a phone all day and they are watching everyone's every move, so I'm afraid to go to the bathroom, but I have to go constantly to make sure everything is still in control. I feel like I'm barely holding on here...I'm about to freaking snap.
I've heard people joke before that you should be afraid of something that bleeds for a week and doesn't die. Well, with that thought, you should definitely fear something that bleeds for 5 1/2 weeks and doesn't die. And I'm sure eventually the bleeding will have to stop because eventually I'll run out of blood, right? *ba-da-bum-chhhh* Seriously though, the whole thing is scary. I know someone who currently has cancer and she's like, "It's going to be okay." She's brave, man. She's a single mom with two kids battling cancer. And here I am, sniveling about excessive bleeding. I really am a wussy, aren't I?
The real problem here is my head. Everything is far scarier in my head than it is in real life. I mean, it's like, I read a Stephen King book and it scares the crap out of me, but then I see the movie and I find myself thinking that the monsters in my head are way scarier. I'm sure that's what's going to happen with this whole thing. And worrying about it in the meantime won't change anything...I know that...But knowing that doesn't make me stop worrying. It's in my nature. I already have it in my head that if it's something really bad, I'm okay with them doing a hysterectomy. If it'll make this stop, then I'm okay with that. But this has to stop because I can't keep going on this way. And I hate to admit it, but I'm scared. Phoenix keeps telling me it'll be fine, but I suspect she's telling me that because she refuses to think otherwise. So, please, everyone, just keep your fingers crossed, say prayers, think happy thoughts for me. I am too young to go and I have too much left to do...
And I feel bad for all you coming here expecting a funny blog...So, let me tell you a very quick, short story. The other day, Phoenix was sitting on the couch watching TV with the baby (We'll call him Chuck) and Hurricane. She was talking crap to me as I was walking up the stairs and I made a smart ass remark back (as this is how we communicate in our relationship). She comes back and says something with the word fuck in it, but because the kids are there, she says, "Fush" or something, right? Hurricane, who is engrossed in watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, looks at her and says, "Fuck". Phoenix looked over at her and was like, "What?" She repeated it, "Fuck" and went back to watching Mickey. I started laughing, "Yeah, I think she was correcting you." The kid is three years old and correcting adults on their usage of curse words. Haha! Love it!
So, even though there's a whole lot of shit going on and I shouldn't be writing this, I need to because sometimes writing is the only thing that keeps me going...Plus, I've been thinking about this for like the last week and I just have to know...Have any of you guys heard about this workout thing with the vibrator? Like it does this whole body vibration thing and you lose weight and tighten muscles. Now, from what I understand, you stand on some platform that vibrates. Already, I'm not seeing a down side to this, if you know what I'm saying. I mean, an elliptical machine kills my thighs within a few minutes and makes me wish I had never eaten that piece of German Chocolate Cake when I was ten or that bag of Gummi Bears when I was fifteen, if you get what I'm saying. Suddenly, you're on that machine going, "Oh em gee...I'm a fucking fatty!" and every bad food decision you've ever made is coming to mind and you're kicking yourself. You know what I mean. *nods* Oh you know! But with this vibrating thing...Come on...That can't be bad. Can it?
I heard about this because my sister has been doing it and she's lost some pounds and some inches. She's also doing Weight Watchers though, so that may be part of it. Then my mom tells me she's been doing it and she's lost like four inches and some pounds...Hmm...
So, I decided that I should try it too. Imagine my surprise when Phoenix Googled it to show me that it's a platform you stand on, like this:
And not a "personal massager" like I originally thought...So, girls, it doesn't look like this:
*shifty eyes* Yeah, I knew that all along...I was just kidding...Yeah, so, um...*looks around* I've got to go now.
So, for those of you who aren't on my Facebook or who block all my posts, I spent the last five nights in the hospital with pneumonia. Now, I know many people know me and know how I am when it comes to going to the doctor, so you're probably thinking, "You shouldn't have waited until it turned to pneumonia!" Well, duh. But I didn't wait this time. This actually came on quick...Over the weekend (Not last, but the one before), I had felt short of breath and tired, but I wasn't sick. Then on Monday (January 30th), I went to work as usual and was fine until like 3 or so when I was suddenly freezing to death...Like teeth chattering...can we please start a campfire...when did I move to Alaska kind of cold despite the jeans and long sleeved shirt I had on. A little while after that, I felt like I had been run over by a Mack truck. I left early and came home, heater BLASTING in the truck and found I had a fever of 102.7 (Yes, for my Cali followers, my temp was KISS FM in Los Angeles). That night I started throwing up and coughing. I thought, "I have the flu." On Tuesday, I kept throwing up and then was coughing up blood...That was a bit scary. I went to urgent care and before taking a chest X-ray, the doctor says, "You have pneumonia. I can hear it in your lungs." After the chest X-ray, he says, "You have REALLY bad pneumonia." And he asks how long I've been sick...Umm...Yeah, for a day. So, he tells me if it gets worse, go to the hospital.
Two days later, I was still sick as a dog and Phoenix was like, "I'm taking you to the hospital." Yeah, I was not happy about this. People go to hospitals to give life or lose it. (Have babies or die!) I was not having a child, so no need for me to go to the hospital. But she made me go. I was in the emergency room for like 15 minutes before they're like, "We're admitting you." Say what? The X-ray tech guy was like, "Did they tell you what you have?" I said, "Yes, pneumonia." He said, "REALLY bad!" Weird that he would tell me that. The ER doc came over and asked me how long I'd been sick because it was such bad pneumonia. The hospital doctor who admitted me was asking how long I'd been sick and was stressing how bad the pneumonia was. I just wanted to ask, "Are you sure it's that bad?" Like I could've driven myself to the hospital...I had been taking care of myself. All the doctors seemed surprised too that I looked as good as I did. (Yes, I'm hot...lol No, but I wasn't like on my deathbed.) I just didn't get what all the fuss was because I wasn't dead...Yes, I felt like shit. Yes, I got winded walking more than three steps. Yes, I was coughing up blood. But I was still okay. So, yup, they checked me into the hospital, which I shall call Hotel California Hospital...You can check in, but you can never leave!
The next day, Friday, a lung specialist came to talk to me about the pneumonia because apparently it was bad enough to warrant his expert advice. He asks me if I'm a native here and I said no, I'm not. He said he was worried that my pneumonia, which is apparently only in my right lung, was caused by Valley Fever. Say what? So, I looked up Valley Fever from my phone to see some of the symptoms and do you know what one of the top symptoms is??? I'll tell you--Headaches!! Whoa! I've had headaches for like weeks. The incubation period for Valley Fever is 5-21 days. Well, I had quit smoking and then for weeks I had the headaches and then WHAMO! Pneumonia. We still don't know for sure if it's from the Valley Fever because the lab results aren't in. They told me it would take a couple of days to get them, but then it turned out it takes five. And then today it turns out the lab was out of something they needed for the culture, so they won't even be done until tomorrow evening.
The lung doctor decided that he was going to keep me in the hospital while we waited for the results to make sure he treated me accordingly because my pneumonia is "so bad". *rolls eyes* I was fine! I just needed sleep...But no, I was in the hospital where they wake you up every two hours for random things like breathing treatments, blood tests, vital signs, medication, conga lines, etc...Like I don't get it. If I'm sleeping, let me fucking sleep! But no--they woke me up. For the record, my arms look like I'm an intravenous drug user, no joke. I had to have--count them--five IVs while I was there. The first one went bad after my second day there, so the nurse put another one in, which even she said when she put it in, "Won't last". Well, then don't put it there! But she did...Then I got a third one on my right arm, which lasted about a day and a half before the vein went bad. Then this crazy lady comes to my room at like midnight (I was nearly asleep) to put a new on in and I tell her, "Not my right arm. I'm right handed." Where does she put it? In my right wrist! Like on the inside and tells me, "Don't move your hand." Are you fucking kidding me??? I'm not worried about writing a letter, typing, styling my hair or doing my make-up at that point in time, but without my right hand, I can't even wipe my own ass. I was like, "Gee, thanks." Once she left the room, it crossed my mind to "accidentally" remove it, but I didn't need to. I went to sleep, and within two hours, it came out on its own. The fifth one was done by a guy with an ultrasound machine who put it in no problem. I was happy too that he listened to me when I said, "Not the right arm!" I mean, it's bad enough in hospitals anyway where they have you pee into a container in the toilet so they can measure your output...For a while they had a second container in my toilet and I was like I will hold it until I'm released...I am not having a bowel movement into a container...What is wrong with those people!? I just wanted to get better, not be degraded like that. They make you wear those stupid gowns too. Luckily, no one said a word to me as I ran around in my gown with shorts. *grins* Yup, I had sweats with me the whole time. Expect me to wear a nightgown...bah!
One last quick story about the hospital and then we'll move on to today...So, my first night I was there, the nurse on duty said they were bringing me a bigger bed. I was like "Okay." The bed I had wasn't very big and when I laid down on my back, my feet were against the foot board. The bed didn't show up that night...Or the next day. At 4am on Saturday morning, the nurse comes busting in (Mind you, I've already been woken up for blood and breathing treatments...What's one more disturbance, right?) and says, "Your bed is here!" Apparently, she had to yell at some people and go over people's heads because the bed should've been brought up. Anyway, this very angry looking man comes in with the bed, switches them out, and sets up the new bed. The new bed looks amazing. It's like a giant air mattress. I was excited. (Remember, I was in the hospital...It took little to get me happy. Raspberry Sherbert made me happy while I was in there.) The guy got it all set up and before he made it out of the room, the bed alarm starts going off, which signals if there's a problem. He "fixes it", and then takes off like a bat out of hell. He left because he didn't fix it. He ended up being called back and an hour later he arrived. By then, I was in the bed with my ipod on, ignoring the world. He "fixed" it once more and left, but the alarm kept going off. Finally at like eleven, a different guy shows up and pulls the bed apart and there's a problem with the air mattress, so he switches the bed with another one. I'm still taken aback by the first guy...Like the alarm goes off and you're going to silence the alarm, because that's all he basically did, and then let the sick person spend the day listening to the alarm go off every 30 or so minutes. Really? What kind of sick fuck does that? How lazy do you have to be to do that? I hope that guy gets busted...Fucking bastard...
Last night was my fifth night in the hospital...I was going stir crazy in there. The lung doctor was insisting that we had to have the results before he'd let me go. He was like 99% sure I have Valley Fever because of the way it looks on the X-ray, but he said I couldn't leave. Today though, when it turned out the lab wouldn't have the results until tomorrow evening, he finally caved under the pressure from my nurse! Yay! So, he let's me out with 3 antibiotics and an inhaler. Phoenix's sister in law was nice enough to pick me up so I could make a clean get away. Once I got home, I took a shower in my own shower and then went to Walgreens to get my meds. Here is where all hell broke loose...
I waited like thirty minutes for my meds, wandering aimlessly through the store, and then I go to get them. I pay my $30 for them and then the pharmacist starts to tell me about the meds. She gets to the second one and says, loudly (Like I'm surprised she didn't pick up the fucking intercom thing to announce it to the whole store), "This one is for your yeast infection. Take--" I looked at her confused, "My what?" She replies, "Your yeast infection. Take one tablet twice a day for 14 days." Still, I couldn't comprehend this...I was like, "I have pneumonia. The doctor thinks it might be fungal from Valley Fever." She says, "Oh yeah...Same thing. Yeast doesn't sound as bad as fungal." Oh no?? It sounds worse! There were like 10 people around there and everyone looked up when she said that! Here are my thoughts...A fungal infection makes me think of like mushrooms...like happy little red mushrooms with white polka dots growing away in my lungs...A yeast infection makes me think of a dirty vag. I wanted to tell her, "I don't have a dirty vag! I have mushrooms in my lungs!" Like one is fine, the other is gross!! I don't have a dirty vag, man!! I walked out calling Phoenix, who laughed wildly...*sad face* Come on...Just kick me while I'm down...
Okay, it's not a freakin' letter to my mama, although now I'm sure she's racing over here to see what sort of shit I'm talking about her now. So, since you're here, mom--You're funny looking, smell like cheese, and dance like Natalie Merchant in this video:
Well, mostly like in the beginning of the video. (And why does Natalie sound out of breath? Perhaps she should stop dancing and just freakin' sing!) But I digress...This whole title came about because yesterday I asked Phoenix, "How was work?" She said, "It was nothing to write home to mama about. If you write a blog, you should title it 'A Letter to Mama'." So, here it is. Tonight she reminded me that I needed to use her title, but I couldn't remember it. I asked, "Was it 'Punch yo mama in the face'?" She didn't like that and had to remind me. Ehh, whatever...Punch yo mama, write her a letter...Same difference. *grins*
Yeah, so I don't remember much about work yesterday, except that people are stupid. I got blindsided with a headache. I am not dealing well with these headaches. And once my head starts pounding, the littlest of things makes it worse. Like if you give me an attitude, I feel my temples start to pulsate. Keep it up and I swear that my right eye starts feeling like it's going to twitch. Then, because I am hurting so badly, I have zero patience. I have very little normally, but with the headaches I'm like...Can I be negative patience? If so, then yes, I'm negative patience. I don't know how to make this better, but I think that eventually I'll either get used to them, they'll stop, or they'll kill me. I'm hoping for the former two and not the latter one. But whatever. Today I woke up with my headache still in place. God forbid it left me during the night...Then it might've been a better morning. I decided this morning to be proactive with certain arguments we go through each day. I mostly succeeded along the way fighting with Hurricane. Once we got to daycare, all bets were off. She was yelling and screaming at Mr. Mischief before I even got them out of the car because she cannot stand him beating her to the door and I swear, he has no idea it's a race. So, I'm like, "Oh hell no...Not today!" Okay, this is in my head, not out loud. I don't take her out of the car and put her on the ground--Nope, I hold her. Oh man, she starts screaming like I'm killing her and she's screaming, "NO! NO!" and yelling Mr. Mischief's name. Am I kidding you? Of course not. Then she starts kicking me when she realizes I'm not putting her down and she's freaking out. Finally, I put her down and she thinks she's running. Oh hell no...I held her hand. She was like a wild dog on a chain...Or like that dog going after Foghorn Leghorn who keeps running out the length of his rope and then snapping back. Yup, she ran like three steps and then found her hand still in mine. Ha! By the time we made it to the door, she was screaming, yelling, hootin', and hollerin'...One would've thought I was killing this child, but all I was doing was walking her to the classroom. A few people looked at me and I said, "I'm the devil because I won't let her run ahead. I know. I'm okay with that." lol I don't know why people feel the need to watch. Obviously the kid is a brat. I'm not hurting her. And obviously, she's not my kid--I have purple and black hair and she's blonde with blue eyes. lol I was holding her hand and not even hard, just holding it. I wasn't even dragging her, despite the fact that she was trying to drag her feet. We made it to the classroom without her pushing, shoving, or tripping Mr. Mischief, so I think I succeeded. Wait until she realizes this is going to be a daily thing. Bwahahaha...
So, after winning at daycare, I decided that I would be okay with taking on Texas in a challenge at work. We spent the day racing to see who would have the better call handling times and the most calls in the day. I think we both did really well. Her last update showed she had 107 calls. She gets off work thirty minutes before me because she starts thirty minutes before me. When I left, the thing hadn't updated again, so I don't know where I stand. I had been like 10 calls behind her. I suspect we ended very close. I had been in the lead for most of the day. I kept teasing her that I was going to push a button on her phone so she wouldn't get any calls. Bwahahaha! Oh well. She gained the lead when I had a few stupid calls where I could not get the people off the phone. Here's what I don't get...If you're calling me, bitching to me about some horrible experience, tell me what the hell you want. Don't just leave me guessing. "Oh, I went to Disneyland and it was such a horrible time. One of the employees was so rude about accepting your card." Okay, that's not the experience, but just an example. So, if you're looking for a credit or free reward points or whatever, then fucking say it. I don't know what the hell you want and then there's going to be an awkward silence while I sit there wondering why you're calling me since I don't work at Disneyland. I mean, shouldn't you call Disneyland and ask why their employee was so rude? I mean, I can't imagine calling my credit card company to solve my problem with a place of business...I guess I'm just one of those people who takes matters in my own hands though and doesn't rely on strangers to handle my shit. Oh yeah, and I don't spend my spare time looking for handouts. I'm just sayin'...
So, on a side note (And no, sister of mine, this isn't about you...This is specifically about someone I know. I swear on a stack of Bibles it's not you.), what is with people posting everything on facebook? Like I get it...We all share stuff. Sometimes, we share too much. It's whatever. What I don't get is the people who are like, "I love my life. Everything is awesome!" That's at 8:54am. At 8:57am, another update, "I think I'm going to have a smoothie for breakfast. I love strawberries!" 9am, "I made the best smoothie ever! I put bananas in with the strawberries. Time for yoga! My life rocks! I love God!" (Whoa...Bananas and strawberries...Who would've thunk it? And how fast did you drink that fucking smoothie?) 9:05am "I need someone to do yoga with. Anyone game?" 9:15am, "Fuck my life. Everything is fucked. I'm going to kill myself." (Huh? Bad yoga session?) No updates for like eight hours, then at 5:15 "I love my life. I'm going dancing tonight. " So, for 8 hours everyone is like, "Is she dead?" and "Call me!" Dude, don't be a fucking drama queen. Why are you going to do that? If you go back and read your facebook and your statuses look like this, run to a doctor. Don't walk. Don't dance. RUN! Because you are mother freaking bat shit crazy! I just read these things and shake my head. I don't know what is wrong with people. If you're feeling down, fine, but how in the hell did you go from everything is amazing to "I'm sitting in a warm bath with a razor"? I get it--people have bad days. I know, I have them often. This is what I get for dealing with the public. But if my goes to hell in a hand basket, I will tell you why. Usually, my post is like, "People are stupid! *pounds head into desk*" It's funnier to say that though as "People are stoopid." LOL My boss said that one of her daughters, making fun of the younger sister, wrote "(Insert younger daughter's name here) is stoopid." ROFL! I love it! It makes me laugh. And this, people, is why we shouldn't spell phonetically. OH! Today some stupid (stoopid!) lady thought I was dumb because her bank's name was Dacotah Bank. I was like sounding it out and finally asked, "What's the name of your bank?" She laughed, "Oh, I was trying to figure out what you were saying...It's Dakota Bank." Um, no. It's Dacotah, whatever that spells. Look it up...It's a bank in South Dakota. Apparently, they can't spell...I'm just saying. I'm not stupid! But I digress...Back to the subject at hand. Seriously, people...What the fuck? First of all, I barely have time on some days to put one post, let along one post every few minutes. Second, I'm not sure the world cares that I'm making a smoothie, doing yoga, contemplating suicide, and going dancing all in the same day. This leads me back to something I've said time and again...Just because you have a thought, doesn't mean you need to share it with the world. Unless of course you have a blog like mine and then I will put whatever I want! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! *grins* Seriously though, what did these people do before facebook, twitter, myspace, google+, and all these sites? Where did they get the attention? And are those places still around? If so, they should go there...
Okay, I think that's enough for me. I have a book to finish writing...And really, I have nothing nice to say today. I'm on two weeks of no smokes. Yay me. *rolls eyes* I think I'm going to take up kick boxing or something like that relieve my tension...Or maybe I should get off my fat ass and start using that elliptical machine in my garage...Hmm...Maybe tomorrow. *heads off to write*
