Pluses:
I'm seeing Mom and Dad tomorrow.
I'm getting help again tomorrow.
Someone ELSE can help me lift the laundry downstairs tomorrow.
Minuses:
I do not have a sharp, useful machete to chop off my left hand with.
No painkillers prescribed tomorrow. I am on my own, baby.
Mom and Dad are going to fuss over me like a couple of old biddies.
My hand is now so sore that even the hot water in the sink hitting it makes it hurt. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
If it doesn't start behaving itself by Monday of next week I'm going up the hill to see a doctor at Student Health Services. And I don't care what the doctor at the other clinic says. That test tomorrow isn't going to show anything more than the MRI did last summer. He's wasting his time.
I should have told him as much, but I'm not the one who ordered the stupid bone scan after having barely GLANCED at my patient's MRI results that said: Nothing wrong with this kid's fingers, but her wrist has been eaten by evil arthritis germs.
If the bone scan is ANY different from August's little magnetic joy and vivre, I will take back everything I've ever said about the man (well, almost everything).
I'm getting worse by the minute here, so this entry ends here.
Ta,
Bec
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