I've turned off the phone. I've meditated. I've got cami tea. Tons of candles lit. Soothing music on.
So, I'm allowed to write. So, I will.
Annnnnnnnnnnnd CUT! That's a wrap people!
Excuse me, but am I in a fucking episode of the X Files? And if I am, could Mulder *please* come and save me from the ridiculousness of it all?
Oh, I failed to tell you what's happened. OK here we go.
My mother has been in the same hospital for eight days. Name a test, she's had it. The Test Du Jour was supposed to help determine something important about her gallbladder. However, after three hours of attempting this test, they could not do it. Why? And I quote:
"They couldn't find her small intestine."
Excuse me? They have a map of my mother's body, head to toe. Cat scan-o-rama. And they cannot locate her small intestine.
And these are the TOP people! So why does it sound like an episode of Grey's Anatomy?
Toward the end of the day, there were two new discoveries made on the apparently ever-changing map reading of my mom's body.
(1) Mom has a small clot on her aorta. (2) She also has a cyst/lesion/alien on her liver that is bleeding and/or causing her liver to bleed. Why no one is concerned about things like septic or other things uttered on ER is beyond me.
In case it wasn't obvious, I'm using humor to deflect my fear and anger. I am channeling Chandler. (If anyone gets that reference, I love you.) It is a good thing I am not there. I would have hurt someone today I think. What the incredible doctors will decide to do remains to be written in the script.
Anyone want to direct this Emmy-award winning episode? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?
Losing Weight; Finding Men
"Never make someone a priority in your life when you are just their option."