I take a medication that needs to be prescribed by a psychiatrist. Backstory complete! Do you ever feel like the non-personification that is Life sometimes singles you out from the rest of the marbles because you have a particularly interesting whirly pattern? Of course you do, that’s ego. Welcome to Grievances, starring It’s All About Me!
The health care system being what it is in this section of Pennsylvania, my provider isn’t accepted at every location in town so when I do manage to find a place that will work with me it really does feel like a battle won. Gettysburg Joke Here. So a psychiatrist here in town is working with me while I look for a specialist, preferable one who is either in town or not outside of the local bus service, accepting new patients, and takes my health insurance. So I have an appointment scheduled and both my morning routine and the bus all planned out like I normally would for these visits. Then half an hour before I have to leave the house I have a seizure. Great, now I’m not going anywhere. The appointment is rescheduled; that was back in January.
On every day that I have rescheduled since then, something has happened. The first time, it snowed and nobody around or at the office had any idea if the buses were running: appointment rescheduled due to weather. The second time it snowed again, although not as badly, but our little house managed to devour my gloves and scarf just for the hell of it and I ended up missing the bus. Now aggravated at inanimate objects, another reschedule was made. Then it snowed again.
Today, February 20th, I had my now fourth rescheduled appointment in the late afternoon. My morning alarm goes off to allow me ample time for breakfast and clacking out some blog work before said appointment, but when I hold up my phone to turn it off I see a text message:
[Doctor’s Office] will be closed today due to bad weather. You will be contacted to have your appointment rescheduled.
Today was the only day in the past seven days that it snowed. I began to wonder at this point if all of humanity’s endeavors are ultimately pointless. I went back to sleep, still somewhat under the effects of my sleep aid. I then kept falling asleep since today was now classified as “Stupid” and I had recently perfected the thought-to-action of becoming The Hulk while lucid dreaming. When I was eventually able to tell the difference between “dream” and “awake” again, Glen Bro and I bundled up and, after clearing snow, made the short trek for some groceries and will be staying in the warmth of the living room for the remained of however long the cold lasts.
Moral of the story: “Fuck it.”