Today, I was going to write about an epiphany that I had while sitting on my mother's toilet. Really, I was (Lucky for you, that'll be tomorrow's post!).
But then, this frickin bullshit happened (which I posted as my Facebook status last night):
Sally Araujo Costa: The bad news? I broke two toes on my right foot. The good news? I can't walk on the treadmill for a few weeks. "Operation Ass Expansion" begins now.
Yeah. I tripped on some cement steps, lost my shoe, and busted two of my toes WHILE tearing off an ungodly amount of flesh. My foot looks like it went through a meat grinder. Son-of-a-b*tch.
So, after waiting a day and watching my foot turn blue and blow up like a loaf of moldy Portuguese bread, I finally went to see a doctor.
I don't know what the hell is going on around here. But, the three women that I had to see BEFORE actually seeing a doctor?
They looked, talked, and acted like they'd recently been released from maximum security prison (roof, roof). Seriously! Even my husband was like, "Where the hell are we? Junk Yard Dog Central?" They were so gruff and unprofessional!
The worst one was the one who took my medical history. She led me into the exam room and asked, "Can I see THE FOOT?"
So, I pulled the bandages off and shoved it in her face (hehehe) and OMG! She started yelling, "AAAAAHHHHH! EWWWWW!" I was all like, Dude! You are supposed to be a professional! I know it's gross but, calm the frick down!
NO WAY, JOSE.
She wasn't having any of it.
She immediately rolled herself (her chair had wheels) to the other side of the room to get away from me and said, "The doctor's DEFINITELY going to send you for x-rays! But first, I need to know....When was your last peery-it?"
Me: My WHAT?
Junk Yard Dog Medical Skank: (Speaking LOUDER, as if I was deaf) YOUR LAST PEERY-IT? WHEN WAS IT?
Me: (making eyes at my husband across the room) *snicker, snicker* Do you mean when was my last menstrual cycle?
Junk Yard Dog Medical Skank: Yeah. Your last peeeeery-it. When was it?
Me: (scratching my head, TOTALLY appalled that I pay $800.00 a month for health insurance and this is the moron that I have to deal with when I bust a body part) A week ago.
Junk Yard Dog Medical Skank: So, yer not pregnant, right?
Me: Not unless there was an immaculate conception.
Junk Yard Dog Medical Skank: Huh?(clearly she doesn't know Jesus)
Me: NO. (standing up) So, where do I go for those x-rays?
Junk Yard Dog Medical Skank: Down the hall. Ova they-a (pointing).
Annoyed, Hubby stood up, grabbed my stuff and said, "Let's go."
We blew past Mary Numnuts and headed for the x-ray department.
When I was finished getting my dose of radiation, we headed back to the doctor's office, where he finally came in and told me that my toes were broken. He explained what I needed to do for the next few days--ice it, keep it elevated, and wear this sexy ass shoe (Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?):
Which, I guess, is TOTALLY better than wearing my freakin slippers:
...Since that is all I could wear previously to visiting the Doc because my friggin foot was too swollen to fit into anything else therefore, prior to getting medical attention---I was hobbling around in my blue camouflage Ugg slippers looking like a typical WalMart shoppers sans belly shirt and pajama pants with the words "Hot Babe" scrolled across the ass. Seriously.
Anywho, THANKFULLY, I am now on the mend.
And I'll be fine.
But, I'm definitely going to write to the department head of my health care practice about my experience.
I pay for my own damn medical insurance (through my business) and I rarely use it.
But, when I do, I don't think it's too much to ask to have a trained health care professional---who SPEAKS REAL ENGLISH and is not REPULSED by my injuries, take proper care of me.