Tag: Patience

Behavioral Relapse Wreaks Havoc At Medical Office

Just the other day I had the displeasure of seeing My Secondary Doctor for a routine check in (not up as They already know what the fuck is going on with Me) to make sure Their Machines are running smoothly.

Now YES I do hate the hell out of Doctors thats a WELL Documented Fact, BUT being aware that Doctor’s/Doctor Offices’s are a trigger that will set me off like a fucking bomb means I have to do something about it.

Just being aware of the problem isn’t enough.

I fucking hate People who act like assholes, and then use some Medical/Psychological issue They have simple as an excuse. Having a Medical or Mental condition ISN’T A FREE PASS TO BE A JACKASS.

If You know what the fuck is wrong with You then its on YOU to FIX THE FUCKING PROBLEM or at least TRY to the BEST of Your Ability. Sitting around saying ” Oh its because  I have…..” IS A UTTER BULLSHIT.

Anyway back to the Story. We…Oh hold on ok. I say We because I bring My Wife with Me whenever I can as a sort of Good Behavior Insurance Policy though like this time it DOESN’T always work.

So We got to the Office and it chock full of Living Corpses as per usual, YET We didn’t have to wait an exorbitantly long time before getting summoned into the back.

Once there The Tech came in and did Her 5-6 minute system check, everything came back fine and that was that. Of course I couldn’t get the fuck out of a Doctor’s office without someone taking My fucking Vitals. It’s no big deal because its quick and Painless.

THEN the Nurse taking My vitals said that My Doctor’s Nurse Practitioner would be in Shortly. As I sat there a FEW things started to occur to Me. The first was oddly about My Primary (and only other) Doctor, and how He had been a moody fucker the last time I saw Him.

Apparently He was still bent out of shape about what I had said pertaining to Doctors, The Shitty Healthcare System, and How it Financially Rapes Patients while Doctor’s seem utterly fucking oblivious.

Then it dawned on Me why was I still waiting? The Appointment thus far had gone quickly and everything checked out fine so what the fuck?!

See My Primary Doctor has jurisdiction over every aspect of My Health like a Team Coach. The Secondary Doctor was called in as a Pitch Hitter meaning He was there to preform one Job, and when it was done that was essentially it outside of a Post Op and 3 month check ups.

I was curious then at first at what the hell the Nurse Practitioner could do for Me/Do Period. They had My Vitals. The Machinery was Checked and Signed Off On, and since thats all They ACTUALLY CAN DO FOR ME what then was I waiting for.

Patience is a Virtue I was Born WITHOUT.

Around 10 minutes went by and I getting less curious and FAR more irritated. At 15 Minutes I’ve losing self control at an increasing rate. At the 15 minute marker the Nurse Practitioner came bouncing into the Exam Room.

She was one of those fucking Happy, Peppy, Rainbows and Bunnies Cheerleaders of Life Types which is the LAST thing I want to deal with when I already about to go Ape Shit.

Of course the first words out of this Woman mouth is asking How am I doing? I said sarcastically that I’m at a goddamn Doctor’s Office so anyway you look at it its shitty.  She then tied to asses the situation as to what I the Patient was getting so wound up by/about.

I tried to reel Myself back in, but I could feel My Rational Thought giving way to Intense Emotion, but I started getting all tripped up (and a tad bit tongue tied) which only served to make shit worse.

Then I simple thought to Myself why am I struggling to stay Sane? Fuck It. Let Go. BE BRUTALLY HONEST no matter what DO NOT HOLD BACK.

And then the Shit Storm hit the Fucked Up Fan.

I hate when People say after these situations “Oh Thats Not Who I AM Anymore, Thats Not Me, I USED to be like that etc” BULLSHIT. Even if You’ve done Your due Diligence and corrected the particular issue You may be having YOUR STILL YOU.

YOUR STILL THE SAME PERSON, YOU JUST CHOOSE NOT TO ACT LIKE AN ASSHOLE.

Anyway I don’t exactly know what happened over the course of the next few minutes as I was busy relishing the chaos I was creating by deliberately CHOOSING to be a Absolute Asshole.

I remember something about yelling at My Wife “See this is what the fuck I’m talking about, this bullshit right fucking here, WHAT THE FUCK is this Shit?!”. Then there was a Barrage of F-Bombs. I was dropping them like I was Invading the fucking Exam Room.

Then things quieted down as I stopped to catch My breath, My Wife Held Her Own, and The Nurse Practitioner was trying to figure what the fuck She had unknowingly just walked into.

The Nurse Practitioner was the first one to break the extremely brief silence by say that if I calmed down and did as asked I wouldn’t have too see the twats for a year or if I didn’t I’d have to see them every 6 Months.”

THAT WAS THE WRONG THING TO SAY RIGHT THEN.

I like everyone else I know DO NOT appreciate being TALKED DOWN TO in a CONDESCENDING MANNER AS IF I’M A FUCKING CHILD or A FUCKING IMBECILE. Doctor’s have developed this as way of dealing with Angry,Nervous, Anxious, Problematic, Combative, Fearful, Depressed by Talking Down to Them like Children.

Let me just take a second to say its even worse for Senior Citizens because EVERYONE talks to the Elderly like the Child Minded Morons. It as if People have come to believe at some age you automatically become a Senile Invalid. There is actually a fucking term for this its called “Elder Speak”, and is an acknowledged and rampant problem within the Healthcare System.

In all do fucking favor The Medical Community is actively eradicating the issue of insulting Elder Speak as its fucking Insulting, Rude, Ignorant, Humiliating, Degrading, Demoralizing, and Dehumanizing.

DON’T TALK TO YOUR ELDERS AS IF THEY ARE CHILD LIKE IDIOTS. REMEMBER THE REALITY OF THE IGNORANCE OF YOUTH. You aren’t Invincible and YOU WILL DIE. Grow the fuck Up.

Anyways again back to the Story. I as you may have imagined I immediately told Her “DON’T  fucking talk down to Me like I’m fucking some sort of fucking Idiot who fucking can’t fucking understand a fucking thing, I’M NOT A FUCKING 3 YEAR OLD NOR A FUCKING IDIOT so stop talking to Me like I Am for fuck’s sake.

The Nurse Practitioner retreated then pausing at the door to tell Me to wait a little longer until some other assfuck comes in for some unnecessary shit. I looked at Her and asked if She was Stupid, Insane or Insanely Stupid?! At this point the question isn’t asked in Anger, but more Confusion.

I couldn’t for the fucking life of Me figure out WHY would She even think of asking Me to wait again wasting MORE of My fucking Time when I was already Pissed Off and not afraid to Show It Either.

Smartly before I could spit some more Venom Her way She just closed the fucking door. A moment later the Nurse Practitioner reopened the Door and told Me not to worry about whatever it was She had babbled at Me about.

I stood up instantly while slamming the chair I had been sitting  against the wall loudly. I then strode out of the Exam Room in about 2 strides out into the Hall. Due to being Angry Asshole I couldn’t figure out if Left or Right was the way out so I figured fuck it I have a 50/50 chance of being right.

I then realized I went the wrong way but had gotten turned around in the Labyrinth of a Office, and I had no real idea how to reach the exit. A Nurse came around the corner and almost banged into Me eliciting a “FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!”

Luckily for All I heard the Nurse Practitioner loudly informing Me where the door out into the waiting room actually was. I stormed out into the exam room giving My Patented “Say Something I’d Love To Violently Murder The God Living Shit Out Of You” Glare.

I of course have never seen this look and have tried to replicate it staring in mirror glaring at Myself like some sort of asshole. In the end though everyone says its never comes close to the Real Thing.

I truly hope someone at some point has the wherewithal to snap a picture with Their fucking Cell Phone because for Me its like hunting for Bigfoot while simultaneously BEING BIGFOOT.

Now by the time I hit the Exit door to Freedom I heard an Staff Member (Don’t know who/which as My back was to Them) ask bewilderedly where it was I was going. The Response They received as I answered over My shoulder not looking back was “As Far The Fuck Away From You Fucks As Possible.”

Fortunately for Me over the Last Year of Medical Madness managed to NOT act like an asshole for basically 11  Months out of 12 (The issue presented itself in Early January with almost Dying, and was Fully Under Control by Mid December after Second Surgical Procedure.)

BOTTOMLINE: If you have a Health issue be it Mental OR Physical AT LEAST TRY NOT TO LOSE YOUR SHIT ALL THE TIME AND ACT THE ASSHOLE.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

The Tale of the Small Town MothMan Mural

When We moved from the Southern Swamp to the Southern Country one of the advantages of the move was there were several structures located out back behind our new home offices. There was a large one car garage which We unceremoniously designated for the usual trivial shit like  Lawn Mowers, Various garden tools, Paint cans, and for a few months 2 large puppies (who now have their own Dog House complete with Heater and Air Conditioning)

The second structure was a run of the mill silver, 10 foot high, 20 foot long, 8 foot wide, sheet metal shed supported by an internal  basic wooden frame. When We purchased the property the shithead previous owners failed to give us among many other things the keys to unlock said shed. We could see through the 4 small windows (2 per side) and do a very general assessment. From what we could see the only real issue other than getting a new lock was the plywood floor was rotten in 2 separate places and would need patching.

Once We got the shed lock changed and were able to enter the structure things looked as if the shed was worser for the wear than We had anticipated. Even if it needed more TLC than We thought it was still a viable option to be My Art Studio (Yes I paint and Draw in a variety of various mediums such as CharCoal or Oil Paints. I have recently decided that it is at this point in my life I will be pursuing Sculpting as creating a 3 dimensional project is going to be fucking awesome and intense.) The first thing I did was load it up with all my various art supplies (Canvases, Paints, Brushes, Assortment of Project Materials etc.), but the floor fix would take time, and I have NO PATIENCE, NON AT ALL. Its A Virtue I was born without and I’m totally fucking fine with that.

It took less than a day before I was wallowing in frustrated boredom and thought to myself that if I couldn’t currently use the shed I could still in the mean time decorate the outside. I drove to the local hardware store in the neighboring town and loaded up on Spray Paint big time. I had no idea what I was going to Paint on the side of the shed so first I selected which side I would do first. The rightsize of the shed made a small alleyway between it and the garage so space to work was limited. The same was true of the back of the shed even more so as our fence came in even closer proximity than the garaged and the sheds right wall. That left me with the choice of either the front or the left side of the shed to choose from. I chose the left side since it was bigger and had the best area in which to work.

I walked around the to the left side of the shed and stood there just looking at the shed without a thought in my mind waiting. It didn’t take long before an idea popped into my head MOTHMEN/MOTHMAN. Now before the first fool blurts out how much they loved the movie “The Mothman Prophecies” shut the fuck up. True it was a some what decent movie, but the Mothman is not solely limited to the Point Pleasant, West Virginia 1967 Silver Bridge Collapse that killed 46 people. The Mothman or Mothmen if you will have been seen in different areas before an impending disaster strikes such places as Chernobyl circling Reactor 4, before 9/11 in New York City, The I-35 Bridge Collapse in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and The Swine Flue Outbreak in Mexico in 2009 for instance.

Now I don’t claim to believe or not believe in such things as UFO’s, Ghost’s, Monsters or Cryptozoology but it all fun food for thought because who actually knows, and all I’m saying is I don’t know. What I do know is I utterly LOVE UNDERDOGS and to me the Mothman is just that, The Underdog of Cryptozoology. The main debate surrounding the Mothman is simply this is the Mothman coming and bringing death/doom/disaster with it OR is the Mothman a supernatural being/creature that comes to WARN US of immediate impending danger?! I hold with the latter of the two believes myself. It all added up to a quick decision that the mural I’d Spray Paint on the side of the shed would be The Mothman. (Yet myths, legends and lore interest me to no end ever fueling the fires of my undying curiosity.)

I should take a moment to add that the left side of the shed faced the street in a small neighborhood in a tiny town located along the Bible Belt. For this reason and this reason alone I wrote “Mothman” across its chest because while the Mothman was enough to turn many a head I didn’t want (nor need for that matter) for the locals to think the new guy was painting Devils or Demons on the side of his shed.

In a few days the Mothman was finished and I decided the silver background was fucking up my visual of the Mothman. I thought about background colors to use (My wife suggested blue and I should have listened, but I was thinking Navy Blue not say Sky Blue) and some how I chose Orange. On top of using Orange for the background I used a VERY DEEP AND INTENSE shade only to realize when it was all said and done the Orange background made it look more demonic than I’d liked or intended. I didn’t want to change the mural so Mothman with Orange background and all remained vigilantly watching the passerby on the road for months.

Unfortunately upon a proper inspection of the shed, the shed was found to be structurally unsound. The floor was completely shot and would need total replacement. The supporting wood infrastructure was compromised beyond belief. This was apparently due to the fact the previous owner had tried to wire up the shed with electricity themselves and fucked it up causing a fucking fire. The fire had burned a majority of the roof supports right through so if you tapped on them with a hammer they disintegrated.

I called my contractor and informed him that the shed was shot and I’d need his help tearing it down so as We could replace it. 3 or4 days later my contractor showed up with a small handful of workers who set off demolishing the rickety old shed. It only took them a few mere hours to reduce the standing structure into piles of scrap.

That evening I was talking on the phone to my Brother in the Great Northern New Yonder and he asked what was new. I told him about the failing inspection of the doomed shed and that it had been torn down and hauled off. I also told him that for a split second I thought about asking my contractor if the Mothman Mural could be salvaged, but in the end I just let it go. My Brother started laughing, not in an at me type manner, but a “He hasn’t figured it out yet” kind of way. Once he paused to catch his breath I asked him what he found so fucking amusing about the whole ordeal?! I had spent all the time and effort to paint the Mothman mural just to have it crushed and carted away in the end.  He responded by saying that if I believed the Mothman was a Warning of impending danger, then painted one on the side of the shed, and then ultimately the shed met its demise then it followed my Mothman belief to a tee.

I couldn’t help laughing because he was dead right. A dilapidated shed, a Mothman Mural painted upon it, and 4 moths later the shed and the mural are gone having been destroyed in the dismantling process.

 

Thanks For Das Read,

Les Sober