Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I fucking hate the illusion of healthcare


So, I have been in pain for a while now. What started as "wrist tendinitis from too much keyboarding" a few years back has pretty much crept into every joint in my body at this point. I suspect arthritis of some type, and even though I see a doctor in a couple days I doubt s/he will have the fucking stones to stand up and actually diagnose something other that, "YOU ARE FAT AND SEDENTARY, DIAF."

This whole rant stems from an injury I received moving some heavy boxes over my head recently. I strained my shoulder and possibly partially tore one of the tendons in it. They gave me methylprednisolone. I had the best fucking 5 days of my life while I was on it. Sure, my shoulder still hurt, but virtually all the pain in my wrists, fingers, elbows, knees, hips, and back was ELIMINATED, and any routine stiffness and swelling in my fingers was all but gone. I had a spring in my step that I hadn't had in probably over 3 years. It was fucking great.

So, the medicine runs out. I was two weeks out from my follow up appointment with an actual doctor (I saw a physician's assistant the first time. Getting a regular doctor in Iowa City is like a Pomeranian trying to fuck a Great Dane...tall fucking order. By the time you do fucking get someone they either transfer or retire.), so anyway, I went back in to the clinic to see if I could get more of the fucking pills that made the fucking pain cease and my life better.

Instead what I get is fucking whining and boo hoo-ing about how steroids are the fucking bad 4 joo and we can't give you any lolwut diaf. The only moderate good news I got was that they moved my doctor's appointment up to 2 days instead of 2 weeks.

Fuck these pricks. Listen, I fucking realize that taking steroids isn't a long term solution to my damn problems and I didn't go in asking for a lifetime fucking supply of them, I just wanted something to help out until I could see a fucking doctor.

You see, the real kicker with me is my fucking allergies. I am allergic to aspirin, ibuprofen, and virtually everything related to them (in other words any and all pain medication you can get over the counter that actually fucking works). Of course they say enlightened fucking bullshit like "Take Tylenol and put heat on your shoulder, that halps, lol!" I have two things to say to that:

1. No, it doesn't.

2. Methylprednisolone works fucking great, give me that. (And let me reiterate, I fucking understand I can't stay on it forever. I get that steroid therapy has its own set of potential risks. FUCK YOU.)

2a. I fucking hate you.

If fucking Tylenol and a heat pad fucking worked on my fucking condition I wouldn't go to a fucking doctor to have it treated, fuckhead. That is the other thing that fucking kills me about healthcare "professionals", if you are in pain you might as well go jump off a fucking bridge right fucking now because there is not a fucking doctor, nurse, or PA ALIVE that gives a fuck about you or the pain you are in. Doctors will give you pain medication if you come into the ER with a javelin through your face. They realize that must hurt. However, if you have pain from a fucked up shoulder or arthritis like conditions (or other forms of degenerative diseases, like my poor stepmother and her muscular dystrophy), you are fucked. You might as well be a junkie looking for a cheap high because these aloof megalomaniacal self-fellating dream-rapers aren't going to give YOU anything to help. You walked in? YOU CAN FUCKING WALK OUT.

Man, I can't fucking wait until Thursday. I get to meet ANOTHER new doctor that will tell me I am fat, I need to lose weight, and lower my blood pressure. YOU FUCKING GET PAID TOP DOLLAR FOR THAT SHIT? THANKS FOR NOTHING. What about my shoulder and the pain I am in that has become chronic at this point? Are you smart enough to develop a strategy for that other than, "STOP BEENING SO FAT, YOU FATTY FATHEAD MCFAT!"

What, do I deserve to be in pain because I am too overweight and don't believe in Jesus enough to these egomanical jackoffs? Well, no, because they really don't care if you are in pain or not, almost regardless* of your situation.

(*oh, you have money, let me open the medicine cabinet for you, my dear!)

So, anyway, I am betting on Friday I will still be in pain, but I will have lots of nice shiny new blood pressure medications to fill. Actually, I hope I have a cellmate named "Snake" and a doctor's head buried out in a cornfield where the police can't find yet come Friday, but when it hurts to carry a jug of milk, I doubt I will work up the gumption to bury a decapitated head.

Monday, September 20, 2010

New Dream 1990 Takes A Crap In My Skull


So, the basic premise of this dream was to be a pseudo-representation of every cheesy cliche from every mainstream movie from 1990. So, slap on your bracelets and time travel back 20 years with me as we descend into 1990 madness.

Starring Corey Haim as a "street smart kid", he goes to Downtown Lou's Pawn shop to hawk some little stuff he has stolen (watches, necklaces, etc.). While there, he notices a Lazer Tag gun, but there is something different about it, so he shoplifts it. "Downtown Lou" notices and chases after him. Corey Haim runs down an alley and appears to be scott free, but he bumps into wisecracking but down on his luck cop, Bruce Willis.

Anyway, Bruce Willis grabs Corey Haim and is going to run him down to juvey, but right when they get into the squad car, an emergency type call comes in and Bruce Willis is compelled to take Corey Haim with, effectively making Haim the new partner for the schlubby down on his luck coppiness. They go across the bridge to the ritzy part of town to a high dollar penthouse apartment. There is no power in the building and residents are standing frightened outside.

Willis and Haim ascend the emergency fire stairs to reach the penthouse. There are a couple of unconscious men in a room and a small piece of archaic looking technology on the floor. When Haim nears the scene, the "unusual Lazer Tag gun" and the archaic technology "react" to one another, causing a spark that knocks out Willis, but wake the other two men...Mike Ditka and Michael Ironside. Ditka notices the Lazer tag gun in Haim's hand, grabs it and starts roughing Haim up.

"Where'd ya get the gun, ya little punk?"

"I stole it from Downtown Lou's!"

"God Dammit, I OWN Downtown Lou's, you little shit!"

WHACK! Ditka punches the kid the fuck out. Ironside decides that the cop and the kid have seen too much, takes the cop pistol and wastes them both. However, the two decide that a murder rap on a cop will set back whatever nefarious plans they have in the mix, so they seek...*sigh*..."supernatural" help. Enter...Kahless forgive me...Lou Diamond Phillips, "The Shaman".

Phillips describes a process to Ditka and Ironside called "Dark Dream Walking" whereby he can effectively transfer the present consciousness of one of the men backwards in time a short way (several hours, no more than a day). The man will then have full knowledge of all events that will unfold, and can take the steps he needs to prevent the cop and kid from showing up and getting killed, and hence furthering their nefarious scheme.

Ultimately, "Shaman Phillips" sends Ditka back to the previous day in the afternoon. He finds himself in the city park, and lo and behold, Haim is there playing soccer with a bunch of kids. (I know, it gets worse.) Ditka ALSO notices that a local soccer star is at a nearby picnic. Ditka, being a smart and rich guy, approaches the soccer star, played by Patrick Dempsey with an outrageous mullet, and offers him big money to hold free soccer lessons for the kids in the park. The idea being Dempsey will distract Haim with mad soccer skillz and keep Haim and Willis from getting killed.

BBBRRRRAAAAAHHHHMMMMM!

However, the joke is on Ditka because the soccer lessons are a big success and get media attention for helping to prevent crime. Dempsey and Haim get involved with local police (Willis) to set up a safe neighbourhood "crimestoppers", and they get a hot tip from Downtown Lou and Willis is able to legitimately foil Ditka and Ironside's nefarious scheme with the archaic technology/Lazertag gun, and they recover stolen money to build a new soccer field so Dempsey can keep teaching the kids, Haim becomes the new soccer star and doesn't have to steal any more, and down on his luck Willis gets a promotion to detective.

*sucks on shotgun, pulls trigger*