May The Best Man Win

Because of all of the weird stuff that has happened in my life over the past several days, I have come up an all-new conspiracy theory!  Like to hear it?  Here it go!

 

 

As we have discussed before, I'm currently "Smoke On", which means that I let myself have cigarettes when I want them.  I'm not terribly hard-core on the smoking--a pack will last two and a half days, or more.  (Or, if I'm taking some 2000+mg of anti-biotics every several hours, a pack will last a bit longer.  Blech.)  I consider that "just barely" smoking.  And I don't smoke around my kids, didn't smoke while pregnant, don't smoke in my house (STINK!), and don't smoke around other people unless they are also smoking.  I'm actually courteous, and respectful of others, especially the non-smokers.  I'm courteous and respectful of them, mainly because I don't want to hear the inevitable whining from the whiny non-smokers, especially those that Saw The Light and quit, and are now trying to save me from myself.  People, people, people!  If Billy Graham couldn't convince me to be Christian, then do you really think you stand a chance at convincing me to stop smoking?  Ya got nuthin!

 

Anyway...

 

I was honest (read: stupid), when I told doctors and nurses and various other staff who asked that yes, I currently enjoy 6-7 cigarettes a day.  Sometimes 10.  Sometimes more.  Because of this, I have been the recipient of The Smoking Talk many, many times in the last four days.  It seemed to be all they wanted to talk about.  Never mind the completely unrelated infection coursing through your veins, let's talk about the smoking.  They were all very, very interested in the smoking.

 

I contend that there must be some prize money at stake.  Like, whichever health care professional can convince the most smokers to quit gets an all-expenses-paid trip to Bermuda.  Or, their mortgage paid off.  It's something really big, I'm sure of it.  If it wasn't really big, I can't believe they would be so focused on getting someone who barely smokes and thinks so little about smoking that I very often forget to buy cigarettes, to give up that disgusting habit.

 

Ahem....I can assure you, this is no "habit".  I smoke not out of compulsion, but because I LIKE to smoke.  It's not an obsession.  I believe that if I had a smoking "habit", I would not be so disciplined where my children and other non-smokers are concerned.  That's just my feelings on the matter--your mileage may vary.

 

So I want all you health care professionals to know that while being lectured oh-so-many times these last several days on the evil smoking thing, during those times that I was giving you that blank look, my mind was screaming, "What the hell are you even talking about?"  Did I come into the ER with a hacking cough?  No, I did not.  Chest pain?  No.  Stroke?  Nope.  ANYTHING related to smoking?  Anything at all?  Gee....I don't think I did.  In fact, is there anything in my health history even remotely related to smoking?  I mean...I am a bad, bad, smoker in her 40's, after all--you'd think it would show up somewhere, right?  Nope.  My medical history is completely free of any smoking related ailment.

 

It's not that I am not aware that smoking is not good for your health.  Duh.  And obviously, I am fully aware that it is not good for other people who don't smoke and are exposed to it, (which is why, when it comes to me smoking, I leave them out of it).  It's that the canned lecture means zip to me.  I already know all of this stuff.  EVERYBODY already knows this stuff.  You're not motivating me, even a little.  Smoke/Don't Smoke doesn't mean anything to me at all, because I don't identify myself as A Smoker.  I don't wake up in the morning wondering where my cigarettes are--it's usually hours between my waking and my having a cigarette.  I'm freaking busy, OK?  And if work is crazy and my mind is on other things, I don't drop everything and run outside at a certain time every day because that time is set aside for smoking, and somehow that is more important than getting the job done.  If I feel like hell, I don't try to power through it and smoke anyway--I listen to my body, and I pay attention to it when it is screaming at me to knock it off.  There have been long stretches of time in my life--years, in fact--in which I did not allow myself to smoke at all.  This just doesn't happen to be one of those times.  No big deal.

 

While I am, perhaps, more aware than most of the burden that habitual smokers place on our health care system, I have to ask....the lecturing....do you think this works?  With anyone?  Because maybe I'm just incredibly stubborn, but when someone lectures me, I am only motivated to do the exact opposite of what they want me to do.  Can't you find a better way?  Talk about stuff that I actually care about, rather than spouting off statistics, as if I haven't already heard them a million times?  I mean, I'd be far, far more motivated to stop smoking, if, say, some hot guy that I wanted to get with didn't like smokers.  So....name dropping, would be a good approach.  I'm just sayin'.

 

Until you change your tactics, however, I'm sticking with my cash prize theory.  What else could explain all the scrambling?  May the best man win.  (Too bad you're all a bunch of amateurs.)

So, You Think It Might Be The Swine Flu?

Are you sure it isn't one of these other, animal related illnesses?

 

Chicken Pox--Contagious skin rash with an incubation period of 10-21 days

Mad Cow--A fatal bovine brain and spinal-cord disease, or grocer-speak for cheap rib eyes

Elephantiasis--"Big balls" should only be used figuratively

Horse's Ass---Diagnosed solely by angry wives and cured by withholding sex and hiding the remote

 

 

(Courtesy of our friends at The Toilet Paper.)

27 Hours In The ER: Character Building Exercise

 I'm not prone to exaggeration or anything, so, when I say "27 Hours", you can totally believe it.  I'm serial.

 

Anyway!  Check this out for weekend fun!  Friday, I woke up to what I figured was a new, icky zit on my chin, and I figured it was a good thing I had the weekend to hide out at home.  By Saturday morning, the "zit" looked more like a spider bite, so, we changed theories.  By Saturday night, when the entire right side of my face was swollen and I looked like I had been punched in the mouth by a very powerful south-paw, I thought perhaps a doctor visit was in order.  Off to the Urgent Care.

 

At Urgent Care, a lovely doctor handed me the strongest anti-biotics she possibly could (Two different kinds!  Variety pack!), and said, "If this isn't dramatically better by Monday, GO TO THE ER!"

 

And so....Monday.  I go to the ER to discover that half of the metro, thanks to our friends in the media, is now convinced that they have SWINE FLU.  And because I did not claim "Swine Flu" when I walked in the door, just some dumb, rapidly progressing, life-threatening infection....I would have to wait.

 

Three and a half hours later...I am allowed to enter the holy inner sanctum.

 

Let me just take a moment right now to tell you, for real, exactly how I feel about emergency rooms.  I effing hate them.  Oh, no, not kidding.  HATE.  You know why?  Cuz the service generally sucks, and why would I want to do that if I had some other choice?  Besides, I work for a freaking insurance company, OK?  Insurance companies WROTE THE BOOK on "Don't go to the ER, go to your doctor!" because, well, ER's are expensive, and we don't want to have to pay for that shit if we can possibly avoid it.  But every time I have had to go to an emergency room, the ENTIRE STAFF always treats me like I shouldn't be there, and that I am just making this stuff up.  They also act like they don't necessarily want to be there, either, which I find equally annoying. 

 

The thing is, you get there, and you wait.  You wait some more.  And you wait some more.  Then they lead you to a room, where you wait.  And you wait some more.  And you wait some more.  Then a nurse comes in and says it will be a few minutes, so, you wait.  A half-hour later, that same nurse may or may not peek in to tell you that it will be just a few more minutes.  20 minutes later, the doctor comes in, asks you what's wrong, then barely listens to you and doesn't believe anything you're saying anyway, because they figure you're just seeking narcotics or something.  Doctor exits, and a half-hour to 45 minutes later, the nurse returns to handle whatever treatment was ordered by the doctor.  Nurse inserts IV, then leaves.  A half hour later, doctor returns, actually examines you, then decides what to put in the IV--in this case, it was antibiotics.  Drip, drip, drip.  Entire bag of antibiotics successfully administered, we wait.  A half-hour later, nurse returns to discover your bag of drugs is all gone, advises that you will be going to radiology for a CT Scan, and tells you that someone will be wheel you down there in "just a couple of minutes".  A half-hour to 45 minutes later, somebody shows up to take you to radiology.  You get there, the techs are excellent, and your CT scan is done in a matter of minutes.  They call the ER back, so someone can come and get me.  15 minutes go by, and nobody shows.  Radiology calls the ER again--"Hey, the lady is still here!  Get her the hell out of here!"  15 minutes later, somebody finally shows up.  In total, you spend a half-hour there, on a stretcher, in a hallway outside of radiology, while people are walking by you, wondering what you are doing, laying there on a stretcher in the hallway.

 

Return to the ER, where, luckily, since you had to wait a half-hour in the hall way outside of radiology, the results of your CT scan got there before you did.  20 minutes go by, and you hear your doctor on the phone, right outside your room, discussing the results of your CT scan with some other doctor, but he says nothing to you.  Then you hear your doctor telling the nurse, "She can go home," in reference to you. 

 

OK, cool. 

 

20 minutes later, nurse comes in and removes the IV.  10 minutes after that, doctor comes in, advises you of what your life on drugs is going to be like for the next couple of weeks, scolds you for going to an ER instead of a doctor, says nothing about what was on the CT scan but insists that you MUST see an oral surgeon IMMEDIATELY.  Then the nurse comes in, goes over your discharge paperwork with you, also scolds you for going to an ER instead of a doctor, treats you like you are lying about the "real" reason you are there, and that there is no possible way whatever happened to you could have happened to you.  Acts like you don't take care of yourself, so, no wonder you're sick (never mind the fact that I probably got a stupid staph infection from some icky bitch in my office not washing her hands after using the bathroom (((shudder)))), and then doesn't even help you find the friggin' exit.

 

What possible reason would they have to believe that I do this sort of thing for fun?  I mean, seriously...is this YOUR idea of a good time?

 

And I understand why emergency rooms are like that, so nobody needs to defend them to me, but, people.....that SUCKED, OK?  SUCKED.  I mean, I have NEVER, in my ENTIRE LIFE, ever visited an emergency room and not left in a very pissy mood.  I hate them.  HATE.  They act like your time is worth nothing, and treat you like you are lying about everything.  Next time, I'll just let the infection kill me.  It might take much longer than the 8 hours of emergency room bullshit, but at least I won't have to pay for parking.