Oops...

    Hi there.

    Sorry I've not updated.  Things on this end have been an insane and wildly frantic mess, but they've been good.  I did have a moment of soul-crushing ennui, but rather than post on this journal, I grabbed some tools and actually tinkered with the furnace. 

    As it turns out, an obnoxiously tiny and tucked away wire which had been connected to the flame sensor had somehow come loose, and after some considerable swearing that left my deaf cat trembling, and after a few bloody knuckles (man...  That sheet metal is sharp), I got it reconnected and now the thing runs better than it ever has.  So, if nothing else, I'm ready for those cold summer nights here in Cheeseland.  Yippeee... 

    Other than that, I think people in my doctor's office are trying to kill me.  I tried to get a prescription refilled, but for some reason, they neglected the fax (and the seven subsequent faxes) which the pharmacy sent for my doctor to sign so I could get my blood pressure medication. 

    Needless to say, in terms of blood-pressure, this sort of incompetence is really counterproductive to actually preventing a deep-vein thrombosis or pretty much any other life-ending cardiac event.  But, it managed to get fixed when I grabbed a whole heap of copies of the unrequited fax the poor, lonely pharmacist was trying to send for the past week, and I charged up to the doc's office to get the damn signature myself.  If not for me and my health, but for the sad pharmacist and all the pimple-faced geeks out there who have spent countless nights whimpering while waiting for a phone that will never ring.  It was my mission, my cause, and rather than the usual stench of death that clung to the walls of that hospital, the air changed to one of hope. 

    "I'm sorry," one of the random, pastel-coated, walking-dead zombie nurses said.  "Your doctor isn't here today."
    "Well," I said as I started flipping a week's worth of faxes onto her desk like a blackjack dealer who'd just lost the house.  "Was she here this day?  How about this one?  Maybe she was here on this day.  Oh look?  Here's last week.  Was she here last freakin' week?"  

    Eventually, Zombie-nurse helpedme to track down my doctor's assistant/student/spineless underling --a small, squirrelly, Chinese man whom, during my last visit there several months back, I taught all the proper inflections of the word "shit."
    "Hello, Dr. Potato Head," I said.  "Sign this so I don't die."
    "What is this shit?"  He said, showing off his slick new grasp of the English language.  I was proud for a moment.
     "I've been trying to get this prescription filled for the past week," I said.  "Your boss is refusing to pay any attention to this.  Is she drunk or something?"
     Then, Dr. Potato Head said, "She's gotten kind of bad lately.  I've been having to stab her to get things done."
    "Umm..."  I scratched my head at the notion of this little fellow stabbing my doctor.  It made me smile a little.  "Stab her?"
    "Yes." He said.  "You know?  Stab her.  Like a cow.  I have to stab her like a cow." 
    "I think you mean prod," I said. 
    "Not the same?"  He asked.
    "No," I said.  "Not in a hospital."
    "Shit."
   
    Anyway, eventually, the little fellow signed my request, and I trundled my way down to the pharmacy and proceeded to wait.  But, it wasn't all bad.  I mean, I did pass the time with the image of my tiny Chinese doctor going wild with a knife in his hand as he tries to get anyone to do anything while screaming "shit" with reckless abandon. 
   
    It's beautiful, man...  Beautiful.

    Let's see...  Other than that, things are good. 

    How are you? 

-DP