Feeling Abused.

The hospital enjoys toying with my mind. I’ve come to that conclusion.

After postponing my surgery for three months [and only after several false potential appointment alarms], they’re now messing with when I can get my bands/wire removed. So the surgeon got sick, but that doesn’t mean his residents can’t relieve me of this liquid diet of no foreseeable end. Seriously. We’re calling them every day, leaving messages, and getting no responses.

The earliest date they gave me for an appointment was March. That’s more than a month away, and it’s after all the Lunar New Year festivities that I’ve been anticipating for the last few weeks. It’s out of the schedulers’ scope, really, so I just need to get in touch with a resident or the doctor himself.

*shakes fist*

All we can do is keep calling.

In the meantime, I’ve got COBRA payments to make as it appears that this whole thing won’t be finished for a while longer. My supportive coworkers have been the saving grace. I can take time off as necessary to rest, which will also allow me time to sort things out with the new house. You know, things like picking out cabinets, counters, and floor tiles.

Oh, and RV made me the most delicious guacamole shake today – avocados, chicken broth [lots of it + water], cilantro, onion, and mild salsa [because the spicy stuff really kicks your throat when it goes straight back].

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