Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Yeah, I suck...

I've not been writing as much as I've wanted too, but geez, I've been a little busy with this stupid collarbone thing...Cut me some slack, wouldja?

Speaking of, today is my one month anniversary since surgery. My healing is coming right along. That said, there is a wee bit of pain associated with this surgery. The doc put me on Oxycodone after the surgery, and here's where my story begins...I ran out of my happy-feel-good-pills this past Saturday. Given I have a slight issue with addiction, I thought I'd try to get off those everything-is-roses-and-sunshine pills.  I was doing okay until Monday when I left for work. By the time I got to work, I was in a world of hurt that the 4 Aleve I'd taken wasn't helping one little bit. So, I caved and sent my friend, David-The-Physician-Assistant an email to get more of my new BFF, Oxy. I know, I should have called, but I hate the phone. A few hours later I still hadn't heard anything from David-The-PA, so I emailed my regular doc. She emailed me right back and said to give David-The-PA a call.  Oh fine...

The thing I love about Kaiser, is that you can do just about anything with them online...except getting narcotics. To get those, you get the old-fashioned paper prescription and then take it to the pharmacy and wait...and wait...and wait. Kind of like when you were a kid waiting for Christmas morning, only different.

Okay, so first I have to solve the problem of getting myself to Kaiser cause I can't freakin drive! Luckily, Chauffeur-and-Schleper-Poppy drove Miss FrankenDaisy to work so she was able to give me a ride Kaiser. From there I'd have to find my way home by public transport...and that's a whole different story for some other time.

Anyway, she drops me off and as I'm walking in the big automatic doors of Kaiser, this Little-Turdlette-Overactive-Sticky-Snotty-Tasmanian-Devil-Thing decides he's going to run inside the doorway with me and try to jump up and touch the door jam, only he misses and body slams me right in my newly renovated collarbone. Well, it was more like my elbow, but it's all attached to the same thing. It hurt so bad I'm pretty sure I pee'd in my pants a little.

You know that look on a great white shark right before it goes in the for the kill...the one where the white cover goes over it's eyeballs and it rips the crap out of its prey? Yeah, that was me, only with a mouth like a longshoreman. I can't even remember what came out of my mouth. I know there were a bunch of  "F__K!s" and one "YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE". I guess it was loud enough for folks to stop dead in their tracks and look my way.

This little creep also had an older brother with him and what I assume to be his Hipster-Complacent-Baby-Talking-Parent-Magazine-Reading-Reverse-Psychology-Using-Fully-Manipulated-By-His-Little-Shit-Kids-Dad. Now I'm staring at the freakin Dad looking at him like WTF?? The guy looks at his evil offspring, points at his own arm and says "Be careful, she's in a..." and the little freak was long gone trying to mow down some poor unsuspecting blue-hair in a walker.

Here's the thing, after all the cautioning from David-The-PA on how I can't drive, I can't ride a bike, I can't pick my nose or even lift a coffee cup; how ironic would that have been if my collarbone got messed up by some rug-rat right at Kaiser? Whatever.

I get my scrip and I take it to the cattle call pharmacy. I stand in the "drop-off" line for 15 minutes...Have I mentioned how much pain I'm in since Malicious-Marvin bashed into me? Bastard.  Okay, so I go sit down and wait for my name to show up on the board.

Then out of the corner of my eyeball, I see this four-foot tall-whirling-blob-of-bad-seed come whizzing into the pharmacy raising all kinds of hell.

Here they are fingering all the vitamins:

The offender is in the yellow t-shirt. The other is his not-quite-as-off-the-charts-hyper-brother.

Here they are fingering all the gloves, masks and hand sanitizer:

Next thing I know, they've both started running up and down all the isles of chairs. It's like I'm watching this in slow motion...they're coming my way...if I can extend my foot in time...damn, I only clipped the little shit's shoe. He barely even stumbled. Sigh.

I started to think...what if I really had some good foot placement and he tripped? At his rate of speed and hardness of the floor or chair leg, he probably would have ended up on the floor convulsing with foam streaming out his mouth. Would I really care? Um, well...not even a little! Yep, I said that.

Did someone say Sausage!

1 comment:

  1. What a nightmare! Did they do an X-ray to be sure it was still okay? How are you doing now?