I hate everything today. I do. I hate everything. Again I am faced with a situation where I feel there is no positive outcome. None. I will just sit here feeling like my Boss hates me, and that the lady at the hospital scheduling number hates me, and if I start crying like I want to right now, my husband will hate me because I look and sound insane again.
I know he won’t, but he’d be disappointed I think. I am disappointed, but I am not good at holding it in when I need an anxiety cry.
My health hasn’t been great. I know something is wrong, and my doctors have given me a laundry list of tests and such to get. My stress over making phone calls and dealing with insurance stuff has kept me from doing it. Last week I went for a test, which lost me a night of sleep worrying, and also put me back another xanax, and they told me when I got there that I couldn’t get it done that day and had to reschedule.
I was devastated… just crushed to the core. It took a lot to get me there. I made my husband come with me and just sit there while I waited. The thought of the test still scares me, as does the medication I have to prep for it with. Nurse whoever, that told me I couldn’t get it done said that my asthma could have a severe reaction to the chemicals I will need to ingest. Cool, so I could have died. That makes me feel better about the procedure.
Then I had to go to the drug store, so I did. The meds weren’t there so they said they’d call me when they came in. A few days later…. no call. Oh wait, that’s my doctor calling. She says, more or less, “go do the damn test already! I called the pills in last week!”.
“Okay.” I say, and then make a phone call…two days later, because it once again, stresses me out.
I make my appointments for the tests all in one day. Cool. Get it out of the way. I’m sure my employer will understand that I have three major hospital tests that need done, including a 24 hour heart monitor and chemical ingesting radiation prep echo whateverthehell scans to do.
But you know what? I knew it wasn’t okay. I was just a spazz on the phone and don’t know what to say. I habitually say yes to whatever date/time they suggest, especially when it’s something scary, or I have to go through a bunch of codes and authorizations, and insurance and such. So I’m telling this poor nurse scheduler this all sounds great! This is fine. Thank you for helping. Thank you for your time. Thank you for making all this crap in one neat little package for me, which was likely annoying for you!
Then I hang up and the panic sets in.
I actually sit there staring at my computer for a good 10 minutes before I head out of the room with my phone. I already know my boss won’t give me the day off. I know, but I have to try. I need to try for that woman who I just told the times were okay. I have to as a sort of messed up penance for my own cowardice.
She sounds annoyed when I ask. I stutter when I ask. I explain the tests, and now sound like a leper. She sounds annoyed at me for even asking. I apologize profusely, tell her I understand, it was too last minute. She says to look at the schedule to see if there are any upcoming dates I could use… and sounds like she guesses there won’t be any for a good long time. She totally hates me now. She sounds so pissed off.
I did this to myself.
I waited, then I stressed, then I stuttered, and agreed, and asked like a mouse, and apologized, then wanted to cry about it.
Now I have to call the hospital again. I bet I’ll get the same woman and she will be pissed off too. She will wonder why I wasted her time before. The phone nurse will give me new times, and they will suck, but I will have to deal with it… and I WILL have to deal with it. I will have to drag myself to these tests, terrified out of my mind about the chemicals, bad tastes, needles, radiation, missed meals, insurance, costs, etc etc etc etc
Can I tell you what I want to do?
I want to never go to work again.
I want to not see my bosses face, or be there when my partner co-worker is out for two days, so everything will be harder and more stressful.
I don’t want to go there, and know she’s pissed, and see it on her face, and feel like I suck, and look at the schedule to oogle at all the lack of available days.
I don’t want to call anyone, or go anywhere, or do anything but cry.
Crying seems like the logical solution to all of this.