Realized there are some of you wondering about the low-down on the whole doctor bugging the shit outta us thing. There’s some other shit that went down this weekend that others will probably fucking write about, but for now I get the lovely fucking job of telling you what a dumbshit Dr. Ken-Dumbshit is.
We called his office back on Friday and the secretary was like “We’re just checking on you and wanting to record some of your recent readings.”
Jesus. For this they left us four vague-as-fuck messages whipping us into a frothy frenzy of fear, anxiety, annoyance, and anger (yeah, that was mostly me).
So we were honest about how the “new” med (that he prescribed about 4 weeks ago) isn’t doing jack-shit and our readings are still in the range of 180/120, if not higher. She’s says we need to speak directly with Dr. Ken-Dumbshit on Monday.
He calls this morning. I don’t want to fucking handle it as cussing up a storm while threatening his precious bits probably isn’t a good way to speak to a doctor.
Middi decides to take it (being at Charlotte is unavailable for other reasons- more on that later). He starts spouting out nonsense about more fucking pills and more goddamn tests (that are the same ones we’ve already done, he’s just hoping for “clearer results”). Middi politely (way too politely in my goddamn opinion) informs him that we are NOT MADE OF MONEY.
She also slips in a hilarious comment about him basically going at our hypertension like a witch doctor who has NO GODDAMN CLUE. He’s annoyed of course, but we’re all laughing our asses off in here on the balcony.
Then he launches into some scare tactics, saying if we don’t listen to him and follow his instructions, we will die of this. That is quickly followed by a firm lecture about all the “special” shit he’s doing for us that has Middi skeedaddling (he sounds like our Father with that lecturing shame-inducing tone) and some vague fragment is instantly out that is softly agreeing to everything he says, robot-style.
The shame-fragment hangs up and disappears, and an auto-pilot gets us towards the car, Claire briefly takes over in order to explain to our passenger that doctors suck, and then auto-pilot gets us to work with an extra half-hour to spare.
It is used for us to have a complete shit-fit, before Serefina and myself get completely tired and fed-up with the others’ self-loathing and rapid cycling and drag the body into work.
Not to mention hog-fucking-tying Victoria because good-goddamn-god we soooo don’t need more of her bullshit on our body today. Already still recovering from last night.
So the short of it is: Doctors are assholes.
I overheard the shift in your tone as he was pushing you. I hope that you can manage to make something of the day other than the chaos because of the idiot.