If my body is my temple, my temple mirrors one of those wigwam shit holes across the street.
I went to the doctor today. I went for a few reasons…
1/ My doctor and therapist are going to be kinda working together over the “panic attack” issues.
2/ My left shoulder is fucked up and much to my dismay ignoring the pain, burning and clicking noises it has been providing me for a few years now isn’t a remedy.
3/ My tummy hurts.
I was in a car accident 5 or so years back that royally screwed up my left shoulder (some uninsured asshole decided it‘d be a good idea to drive his car up underneath the bed of my truck. It was in the middle of a sunny Sunday afternoon, I was stopped allowing a squirrel to cross the road, he was fucking with his stereo.) On and off since then it has given me problems. In the last year those “problems” have been nonstop. I’m not a fan of prescription painkillers so I’ve been eating OTC meds like candy for months. Which leads me to my tummy. Either I’ve completely blown my stomach up with stress or it’s the 6 to 8 Doan's, Advil, Tylenol, Aleve or whatever else I can get my hands on that I’ve been eating daily so I can make it through work and to help me sleep. My tummy hurts and I’m all acid refluxie so to combat that I’ve been drinking tummy stuff like water for over a week now.
Doc says to me today “We need to figure out if your stomach issues are stress related or if you’ve screwed yourself up with OTC’s. So here’s what we’re gonna do…” At this point in the story I’d like to stop and clarify that “So here’s what we’re gonna do” actually translates into “So here’s what I’m gonna make you do…”
We, (which really means me) are going to have the following done…
Protonix QD for the tummy
Klonopin BID for the freak outs
Left shoulder x-ray
Extensive blood work (which will in the process rule out H-pylori)
And (I’ve saved the best for last) an Upper GI
See, I went to the doctor 8 or 9 months back over my shoulder and neck hurting. I had 45 to 50% mobility. She gave me some steroids to reduce the swelling and referred me to physical therapy.
The upside was the steroids worked- my shoulder stopped hurting and I regained the mobility in my arm and neck for awhile. The downside was…my penis disappeared and I was left with a giant set of nuts. Okay so you didn’t think it was funny but I did…and that’s what matters.
Anyway, during that period of time I had decided to start going to counseling again. I had two choices. A/ spend $40 once a week getting my head straight or B/ spend $40 three times a week in physical therapy getting my shoulder straight. I chose the mental therapy. Now I’m going to be stuck doing both. Unless, that is, I want to end up having to have surgery on my shoulder or my guts because of all of the aspirin I take to make my shoulder stop hurting.
Second, asshole video store managers….
D went to the video store last night to rent a movie. Clerk says “You have an $84 dollar late fee.” D says, “Uh, no I don’t.” Clerk says “Yeah, it’s for 50 First Dates, you never returned it.” D says “That was months ago; my wife bought that movie for her dad. BOUGHT. As in PAID FOR. Not rented.” Clerk says “No, we rented that movie to you. We didn’t sell it.” I’m going to stop here (because this shit goes on for an hour) and cut to my part in the process.
D called me, told me what was going on and that the manager would be there at midnight if I wanted to deal with him. I was three shades past livid. Why? Because this is the third THIRD, time these assholes have SOLD me a movie, then turned around and said it was rented.
I went up there at midnight raging pissed but still actively seeking resolution. Resolution went out the window when the manager asshole tried to convince me in extremely broken English that I was trying to rip him off for 6 fucking dollars (the movie was for SALE for 6.99, the idiot clerk charged me .99 as a rental….hence the giant fucking late fee). I explained that this was the third time this had happened, I fully intended on contacting the B.B.B. and would not under any circumstances pay an $84 dollar late fee that I did not owe. I also told him that one of two things was going on; either he was a fucking thief (since this has happened three times now) or he had incompetent employees that can’t tell the difference between a sale and a rental. I explained that I got a card in the mail months ago saying the movie was 8 days late. I called the number on the card and told the guy I BOUGHT the movie. He said he’d take care of the account and make sure it reflected the purchase.
So what did this dumbass decide to do? He started to yell at me. I asked him once “Will you please lower your voice and quit yelling at me?“ he kept yelling. I then told him “Stop raising your voice with me, I will NOT be spoken to like that.” he kept yelling. I responded with “Do you really want to get in a yelling match with me? I can assure you right now that you won’t win.” he kept yelling. So…..I started screaming at him at the top of my fucking lungs. The store emptied, the employees freaked. I told him he could close my account, eat the motherfucking DVD and shove the fucking late fee up his ass. I also told him if I got a bill in the mail I was going to take it directly to my attorney.
I left the DVD on the counter and stormed out with him yelling at me that I was a thief and a liar. I told D what had transpired and how ashamed of myself I was for showing my ass. As soon as I got to the part where Dickhole called me a thief and liar, D didn’t say another word. He got in the car and went back up there. Dickhole didn’t yell at D, he didn’t call him a thief and he didn’t call him a liar. D has a few slight advantages over me- he doesn’t raise his voice (he stays creepy calm with an expressionless face), he stands 6’4” and weighs in at 225. I guess Dickhole figured it’d be a bad idea to piss off a guy that big and that creepy calm. An hour later D comes home, DVD in hand and says “I’ll deal with it from here on out.”
He was on the phone with someone over it today on the drive to my doctors appointment. I’m not sure what’s going on with it but I do know this: screw Dickhole!…I’m not paying that idiot a dime for an imaginary late fee! If I owe him anything, it’s 6 dollars because his stupid employee rang me up wrong. It would really be in Dickhole’s best interest to take the six fucking dollars because D has made it clear that he has no intention of letting this go.