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Where to begin? No, my eye isn't going to fall out [darn, how cool would that be?]. Turns out that I somehow managed to scratch my eye pretty badly without my knowledge, and that it ulcerated. Mmm, yummy... ulceration. Oh, and remember that whole health thing I kept ranting and raving on and on about last week? With the dizziness and the feeling bad and various other whatnotterie? No? Oh, sorry.
Well. In one of those oh-yeah-could-you-check-this-just-in-case moments, right before Doctor Dude left, I asked him if I should still be getting dizzy spells. I mean, it's been what-- a week now? So he checks me out. Well, first he oh-by-the-ways me that I had a fever when I came in. What in the what now? And just WHEN were you planning to tell me this? Isn't that... something I kinda need to know? And then he checks me out and asks if the person who saw me last week noticed anything funny about my ear. [Heh. "Yeah, he said that it was wearing clown shoes and squeaking." Heh.] Well, check your chart, genius. YOU checked me out, YOU told me that it was infected. It should all be there. That's what the freaking chart is FOR. So, basically, no change in health from last week. That? Makes me just a wee bit furious. Just a tad. That, and I had to get a shot. In the butt. Yeah. Not that I have a problem with shots in general, but, really-- couldn't you have given it to me last week, when I felt much worse? Maybe then I wouldn't be coming in here every single week.
I realise that a lot of my anger is due to my massive lack of sleep, and the infection coursing through my system [mmm... infection] and the fact that I got forgotten in the little room and the fact that everyone is incapable of understanding that I have perfect vision in one eye and can't see crap with the other-- get over it, people, it's really not that uncommon-- but how embarassing is it to not even be able to read the top line with one eye, and be able to read the very last line and probably the fine print on the bottom of the eye chart with the other?-- and that I had a ginormous Examen de Espanol hoy, which we had been assured had only one verb form and BAM-- I definitely saw some pretirite on there, and that in the rush to pack to go home last night for PriMedding I definitely forgot my Spanish workbook, so that's what I did for the hour before the test, and that my latest attempt at getting better through sheer willpower has massively and spectacularly failed, and that if it weren't for my eye ulcer [I'm telling you, Spike and the Eye Ulcers-- awesome band name] I wouldn't have even known that I was still quite ill, and oh yeah, FEVERISH, because I've been actively ignoring symptoms because I JUST WANT TO BE WELL FOR ONE DAY OF MY FREAKING LIVE ALREADY, and that constant sulferous cloud of doom, agony, and general anxiety that ever hovers over my shoulder, just out of sight but always there...
So yeah. Unfortunately, it's going to be one of those weeks. And tomorrow I have that poetry thing, GAH... Just about the only thing making me happy right now is my icon.
Well. In one of those oh-yeah-could-you-check-this-just-in-case moments, right before Doctor Dude left, I asked him if I should still be getting dizzy spells. I mean, it's been what-- a week now? So he checks me out. Well, first he oh-by-the-ways me that I had a fever when I came in. What in the what now? And just WHEN were you planning to tell me this? Isn't that... something I kinda need to know? And then he checks me out and asks if the person who saw me last week noticed anything funny about my ear. [Heh. "Yeah, he said that it was wearing clown shoes and squeaking." Heh.] Well, check your chart, genius. YOU checked me out, YOU told me that it was infected. It should all be there. That's what the freaking chart is FOR. So, basically, no change in health from last week. That? Makes me just a wee bit furious. Just a tad. That, and I had to get a shot. In the butt. Yeah. Not that I have a problem with shots in general, but, really-- couldn't you have given it to me last week, when I felt much worse? Maybe then I wouldn't be coming in here every single week.
I realise that a lot of my anger is due to my massive lack of sleep, and the infection coursing through my system [mmm... infection] and the fact that I got forgotten in the little room and the fact that everyone is incapable of understanding that I have perfect vision in one eye and can't see crap with the other-- get over it, people, it's really not that uncommon-- but how embarassing is it to not even be able to read the top line with one eye, and be able to read the very last line and probably the fine print on the bottom of the eye chart with the other?-- and that I had a ginormous Examen de Espanol hoy, which we had been assured had only one verb form and BAM-- I definitely saw some pretirite on there, and that in the rush to pack to go home last night for PriMedding I definitely forgot my Spanish workbook, so that's what I did for the hour before the test, and that my latest attempt at getting better through sheer willpower has massively and spectacularly failed, and that if it weren't for my eye ulcer [I'm telling you, Spike and the Eye Ulcers-- awesome band name] I wouldn't have even known that I was still quite ill, and oh yeah, FEVERISH, because I've been actively ignoring symptoms because I JUST WANT TO BE WELL FOR ONE DAY OF MY FREAKING LIVE ALREADY, and that constant sulferous cloud of doom, agony, and general anxiety that ever hovers over my shoulder, just out of sight but always there...
So yeah. Unfortunately, it's going to be one of those weeks. And tomorrow I have that poetry thing, GAH... Just about the only thing making me happy right now is my icon.
smurfs 
Hermione 
has an eye on 
SiriusBlack 
loves 
Rover 
is turning cartwheels for 
Steve 
loves 
SamBeckett 
loves 
Raphael 
idolizes 
Al 
