Tuesday, June 16, 2009

a fucking rv

After my mom died, things were actually going well
I took a few weeks off to mourn and process
Help dad, take my mom’s doggie (yes, he is too small and goofy to be known as a dog, too old to be considered a puppy) to the vet, go through my mom’s personal effects.
I also worked on my house: cleaned and organized, stained my porch, thought about painting my bathroom. I kept busy with long neglected household choirs and even helped my friends with their spring time projects. Things were well…I was even ready to look for a new life (or a job at least)
But now it is shit
The last couple of weeks have been a slide into multiple levels of angst. It started with the $$$ in my checking account dwindling, and was punctuated by a three in the morning burning streak through both my hands. I have carpel tunnel. And I fucked it up. Perhaps I should have NOT moved that pile of rocks…but I did not expect this. I have worn wrist braces to be every night for a year or more. However my wrists were so swollen it didn’t matter. My hands were even red.
I did see the specialist right away, who scheduled injections….well the lovely office canceled my appointment, blew me off for two weeks, and rescheduled me for a month later. WTF Thank you very fucking much. To add to insult, the office canceled my appointment, yet the office could not be bothered to return my phone calls for two weeks.
So, basically, I cannot sleep I am totally ready for a job, but my fingers go numb after 10 minutes of anything involving my fingers: typing, writing, using the computer mouse is the worse, I cannot even water my plants without numbness. I can’t hold a phone to my ear for very long.
I decided to call my psychiatrist because not having sleep was making me depressed. I called his private office (as we had arranged) and he asked me to make an appointment with him at student health. Even though I graduated, he said it would be fine. However, student health said I needed to see a (student) counselor. Fine, I met with her and she said I really wasn’t allowed to use the services because I graduated (I didn’t want to see her in the first place!) Anyway, they allowed me to see my psychiatrist. A week later…..
After telling him my sob story of pain and grief. He told me I was dealing with everything fine…but told me I needed a job. Then he told me he would not give me anything for sleep because it was really the pain.
I have an appointment with my primary doctor tomorrow; maybe he can take me out back and shoot me.
So to make matters worse, I have a new asshole neighbor. A new alcoholic tenant. There is now an ugly old RV parked 12 inches from my hedge. Lovely. He has already gotten into a fist fight with his friend the day he moved in. He has an RV, and trailer full of tanks and chemicals, and a dog. I nice dog I hope. I want a big fence.
And a moment of sleep…and my fingers to not feel like unattached sausages

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