My day

So I am home... and rested, and I will say something which goes without saying, which is... I hate doctors. Nothing against them, but they are clueless and going to them for "help" is frustrating and often a waste of money. I should have known they wouldn't have answers. Story of my life. It would have been nice if they could pinpoint my issue(s) so that I could deal with them my way, but no. I was not even so lucky.

I have a bad habit of letting things accumulate because my hate on doctors is so great. It then gets to a point where I cannot bear any more, and I break down and visit a doctor despite my understanding that they will not be able to help. When I was a child, we went to a family doctor because my grandmother had chosen him and so he was the one we all visited. I did not like him. He was a brusque and vain man, more likely to talk about the accomplishments of his children than to show any concern for me or my siblings when our mother took us. Some of my dislike for doctors stems from him, I think. Not that he ever did anything wrong, but he wasn't too interested in doing anything right either. I am very concerned with people being present in their actions. Everything you do should have purpose, be directed by your will... not through habit, thoughtless.

But I digress. I have been "sick" since December with a sore throat. That's easy enough to bear. I've suffered worse, was already suffering worse for several years, between allergies, migraines, and an undisclosed health issue that would repulse everyone if I went into detail. And then came the laryngitis, the straw that broke the camel's back.

I've had laryngitis for over a month. This is particularly distressing because I sing... I sing when I feel sick. I sing when I am stressed. I sing away my headaches, hunger, and general malaise. Singing makes me feel better when nothing else does. I purr when I am happy. I growl when I am angry. I rarely speak to people unless I have something to say, but I like to know I can speak if I have to.

I was at the hospital for tests from 7 to 1:30 this morning. And I am still no better for it. As I should have known, I will just have to suffer through this as I have suffered through other issues in the past.

The doctors, in their infinite wisdom, said it was allergies.

Allergies? Really? I don't buy it. I am well aware of my environmental sensitivities and this is not normal. And, if it was allergies, why did I get it after one of my coworkers had it? Right, I must be allergic to germs. :-/

No, doctors are fools. Nice enough people, but imbeciles. First they lost my throat cultures, then the tech didn't bother to run them, and blah.... it got to the point where I was sitting there, just waiting on this stupid test and they wouldn't discharge me until it was in. I was so hungry, I was ready to puke, which seems counter intuitive, but oh well. I was getting a migraine from the flourescent lights, but damned if I was going to ask for a painkiller and be charge $100 a pill or some such nonsense. Quite the racket these modern priests of healing have going.

They were finally going to let me go and have me call, and wouldn't you know that the test finally came back as they were having me sign? Negative for Strep. Right... I could have told them so. Just give me my voice back. I am tired of rasping songs that don't make me feel better at all. Even whistling is losing its appeal now that my little feathered playmate is gone.

And then I still couldn't eat after I left the hospital because I had to rush to my chiropractor appointment. I really hadn't thought I would be at the hospital six and a half hours or I would have called and rescheduled the chiropractor (or not gone to the hospital). But after lying in a non-spine friendly hospital bed for so long, my shoulder was in knots and I really needed that chiropractor visit.

Weird bit of info... Shady and I have a similar problem with our shoulders... same shoulder in fact. Least the chiropractor's been able to help mine to some degree. I blame my shoulder issue on the sheer number of times I have fallen... down stairs, down hills and mountain sides, out of trees, from bunk beds, thrown by two different horses even... I should have been paralyzed several times over by now. I died once... fell down, went into convulsions, swallowed my tongue.

Fun times.

So when I finally got home, I ate and crashed. That was my day. What a waste.