This Entry Starts So Well, Then Turns SO Bad
Monday, Sept. 24, 2007 at 8:08 a.m.
The Hubster and I had a rather nice weekend! I had won a free night stay at the Apache Gold Casino Resort over at the San Carlos reservation, just outside of Globe. WE drove over and spent the day exploring downtown Globe . . .
. . . as well as Besh-Ba-Gowah ruins, which was pretty neat. It’s still too warm to have fall colors yet, but the cactus all looked very nice. The resort also gave us free dinner, free breakfast, and a couple of free drinks, and we only dropped $20 in the slots. I won it back and then proceeded to lose it again. Oh well.
Otherwise, I’ve been spending a rather stupid amount of time trying to get all the ducks in a row for the surgery, and the whole process is leading me to consider getting a new GP. Whatever happened to customer service, I don’t know, but what I do know is that I don’t treat the people I talk to on the phones at work like that. I can very close to breaking one of my knitting needles in my fist on Friday, when I was told by a very sour woman that because I didn’t call ahead for a chest x-ray, they wouldn’t be able to see me today. And this was after I had spent a half hour sitting in the waiting room. I’ve never had to make a chest x-ray appointment. Gah!
I also went to the Obi-Wan Onocologist’s office and had a long talk with the nurse practitioner, J, about all the things that could potentially go wrong with my surgery: fistula, colostomy, stroke, thrombosis, psoriasis, Microsoft fatal error, plague, dutch elm disease, heart attack, dengue fever, staph infection, mange, ingrown toenails, the heebie-jeebies, and death.
Isn’t that nice?
So that’s pretty much my whole life right now . . . that and getting in things to eat while I’m recuperating, and steam-cleaning the whole house before surgery so that I won’t fret over the state of the house while I lie in the recliner for several weeks.
Oh, like that’s going to happen. *grin* The only thing I really plan to do is steam-clean the recliner. It’s been a sweaty summer and the thing’s smelling a little . . . well . . . gamey. Ewwww!
I tell you what, though, the smell of a sweaty recliner pales in comparison to the image of a necrophiliac mouse:
