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This journal entry comes in four parts.
Part the First: I Broke My Brother's Brain
[After a long conversation with my brother over whether or not Christopher Eccleston was bald, which had to be settled by referencing my poster, my Ninth Doctor action figure, and my brother's own hairline, Danny tried to steal my Nine doll so that he could have it do something obscene to my Action!Peeps, because he is thirteen. I did the only thing I could; I shoved the doll into my shirt to keep it safe.]
Danny: YOU'VE GOT CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON IN YOUR SHIRT.
Alex: *looking into shirt* In my boobies, to be precise.
Danny: Oo-ooo-ooh, you'd like to have Christopher Eccleston in your shirt...
Alex: Well, I wouldn't mind...
Danny: *FREAKS OUT LIKE WHOA*
He had to collapse on my bed with his hands clasped firmly over his eyes and rock there for a while. His own fault, really.
Part the Second: Health-Related Stuff
So. After a comparatively short wait at Pri-Med (under two hours, SCORE) the doctor came in, looked at my eye, froze, looked at my eye again, looked at the attending nurse, looked at my eye again (and by this time, my heart was pounding), and he said, "You have a benign growth in your eye, a pterygium, and it's going to require surgery," and I almost passed out a little, and then I calmly informed him that I had had a similar eye issue a few years earlier and the doctor had given me eyedrops and it went away (well, it was more like "Ihadsomethinglikethisbeforebuthegavemeeyedropsanditwasgone,totallygoneomg,nosurgerysurgerybad") and he amended it to "Take these eyedrops twice daily; if it's still there a week from now, you need surgery."
FUN TIMES.
Cult of Awesome Like Burning, I think I need to sacrifice a pineapple. Yes? No?
Part the Third: Why I Hate the Pharmacy Guy in Prattville
No, Prattville Pharmacy Guy, I don't have health insurance. Believe it or not, Prattville Pharmacy Guy, I know that my not having insurance is going to make my eye-saving medicine cost more. Giving me a snooty look and sneering at me and basically belittling my intelligence in front of my mother and the people around me isn't going to magically give me health insurance. If it were possible for me to have health insurance, I'm pretty sure I would be all over that. Please to be keeping your snooty sneering to yourself, thanks kindly.
Part the Fourth: Why I Am No Longer Not Not Drinking Coke, Or, Why I Fell Off The Wagon
So, remember how like a week ago I said that thing? That thing where I was not going to drink Coke for two weeks, to see if the caffeine and sugar was the reason I can't sleep at night etc? That thing?
I've been very good, Coke-wise. I had several nervous breakdowns on Friday, and my usual way to settle my nerves and get my panic-attack-depleted blood sugar back up is to have a Coke. I didn't have a Coke, even though I really really wanted one.
Saturday and Sunday I had a horrible stomach thing. Most medicines that combat stomach upsets make me vomit, so my usual cure is to have a Coke, which settles my stomach nicely (after all, that was one of Coca-Cola's original purposes). I didn't have a Coke.
Yesterday I had an asthma attack. Which is pretty common for this time of year, but like an idiot I didn't have my inhaler with me, so it took a little bit for me to get evened out. Coke can sometimes stop asthma attacks (so can black coffee with lots and lots of sugar, but black coffee is ick (ETA: so I've been informed that black coffee is no longer black coffee when sugar has been added, let the record show that I stand corrected in the matter of black coffee vs milkless coffee with lots of sugar added)). I didn't have a Coke.
Today I had to go to the doctor and get told that I might need surgery in a week, surgery that I really can't pay for. At all. I went home and bloody well had a Coke, and it was fantastic.
Now, I have learned some things from my admittedly-brief detox period. I do drink too much Coke; I should definitely drink it in moderation. But it also has its benefits, like the asthma thing and the stomachache thing, so I think I'm going to continue drinking it. Sorry I fail at Coke Prohibition!
[After a long conversation with my brother over whether or not Christopher Eccleston was bald, which had to be settled by referencing my poster, my Ninth Doctor action figure, and my brother's own hairline, Danny tried to steal my Nine doll so that he could have it do something obscene to my Action!Peeps, because he is thirteen. I did the only thing I could; I shoved the doll into my shirt to keep it safe.]
Danny: YOU'VE GOT CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON IN YOUR SHIRT.
Alex: *looking into shirt* In my boobies, to be precise.
Danny: Oo-ooo-ooh, you'd like to have Christopher Eccleston in your shirt...
Alex: Well, I wouldn't mind...
Danny: *FREAKS OUT LIKE WHOA*
He had to collapse on my bed with his hands clasped firmly over his eyes and rock there for a while. His own fault, really.
Part the Second: Health-Related Stuff
So. After a comparatively short wait at Pri-Med (under two hours, SCORE) the doctor came in, looked at my eye, froze, looked at my eye again, looked at the attending nurse, looked at my eye again (and by this time, my heart was pounding), and he said, "You have a benign growth in your eye, a pterygium, and it's going to require surgery," and I almost passed out a little, and then I calmly informed him that I had had a similar eye issue a few years earlier and the doctor had given me eyedrops and it went away (well, it was more like "Ihadsomethinglikethisbeforebuthegavemeeyedropsanditwasgone,totallygoneomg,nosurgerysurgerybad") and he amended it to "Take these eyedrops twice daily; if it's still there a week from now, you need surgery."
FUN TIMES.
Cult of Awesome Like Burning, I think I need to sacrifice a pineapple. Yes? No?
Part the Third: Why I Hate the Pharmacy Guy in Prattville
No, Prattville Pharmacy Guy, I don't have health insurance. Believe it or not, Prattville Pharmacy Guy, I know that my not having insurance is going to make my eye-saving medicine cost more. Giving me a snooty look and sneering at me and basically belittling my intelligence in front of my mother and the people around me isn't going to magically give me health insurance. If it were possible for me to have health insurance, I'm pretty sure I would be all over that. Please to be keeping your snooty sneering to yourself, thanks kindly.
Part the Fourth: Why I Am No Longer Not Not Drinking Coke, Or, Why I Fell Off The Wagon
So, remember how like a week ago I said that thing? That thing where I was not going to drink Coke for two weeks, to see if the caffeine and sugar was the reason I can't sleep at night etc? That thing?
I've been very good, Coke-wise. I had several nervous breakdowns on Friday, and my usual way to settle my nerves and get my panic-attack-depleted blood sugar back up is to have a Coke. I didn't have a Coke, even though I really really wanted one.
Saturday and Sunday I had a horrible stomach thing. Most medicines that combat stomach upsets make me vomit, so my usual cure is to have a Coke, which settles my stomach nicely (after all, that was one of Coca-Cola's original purposes). I didn't have a Coke.
Yesterday I had an asthma attack. Which is pretty common for this time of year, but like an idiot I didn't have my inhaler with me, so it took a little bit for me to get evened out. Coke can sometimes stop asthma attacks (so can black coffee with lots and lots of sugar, but black coffee is ick (ETA: so I've been informed that black coffee is no longer black coffee when sugar has been added, let the record show that I stand corrected in the matter of black coffee vs milkless coffee with lots of sugar added)). I didn't have a Coke.
Today I had to go to the doctor and get told that I might need surgery in a week, surgery that I really can't pay for. At all. I went home and bloody well had a Coke, and it was fantastic.
Now, I have learned some things from my admittedly-brief detox period. I do drink too much Coke; I should definitely drink it in moderation. But it also has its benefits, like the asthma thing and the stomachache thing, so I think I'm going to continue drinking it. Sorry I fail at Coke Prohibition!