Building an Anger Tower

It started in the wee hours of the morning. I hadn't even gone to sleep yet, so it only qualifies as "today" on a technicality. Still, it was today, and it was the foundation of my incredibly shitty day. John and I argued last night, even though I didn't want to argue. I just wanted to be left alone, but that wasn't too be, so we argued. That meant being up much later than I cared to be, which meant I was dead dog tired this morning when I got up.

I'm lucky I did get up. John was supposed to wake me up this morning, because Booie had a doctor's appointment. He didn't do it. Fortunately, I woke up about a quarter after nine. It wasn't when I needed to be up, so I could get a shower, but at least it wasn't so late that we would be late for her appointment. That ended up being nothing to worry about, but I'm not there yet.

I managed to get both Boo and myself ready without looking too much like I hadn't showered or had slept in an alley. We even made it to the hospital in plenty of time. There was little parking available though, so I was stuck in a space that allowed about eight inches on each side of my vehicle. That made getting Boo out a whole lot of fun, since she still can't move enough on her own to get out of the car. During that time, the parking attendant pulled a car in behind me, so I was unable to open the back and get out Booie's wheelchair. After putting a cramp in his day by making him move the car, I got the wheelchair, and we went up to Neurology.

We were on time, but we didn't have a referral. Great. I didn't even know we needed a stupid referral, but I was able to call our doctor's office and get one. I wasn't able to do that without being put on hold for ten years just to get the phone number to our regular office, because I didn't have it with me.

Ok, got that taken care of, so we sit down and wait... and wait... until the receptionist sticks her head out the window and tells us our doctor is running about 45 minutes behind, so go ahead and get some lunch or something. I wasn't too bothered by it, but Booie didn't want to leave. She waited for another hour before she decides, yes, she does want something to eat and drink. Of course, at that time, she's parched and ready to die if she doesn't get a drink right now and begins making coughing and hacking noises. Then she proceeds to cry. I would have been more embarrassed had the little brat next to us not knocked Booie's block tower down a dozen times. Plus, embarrassment doesn't come so easily when you're getting impatient. It was 12:30 before we even got called back to the room. Our appointment was at 11.

Thankfully, we only waited about five minutes for the doctor to come in, and she spent plenty of time with us. That could explain why she was running an hour and a half late, but I was glad not to be rushed and have all my questions answered. I also got to see the pictures of the MRI Boo had done in the hospital and see exactly what was abnormal about it. It was really interesting, but seeing Boo's eyeballs on that film kind of freaked me out. Booie didn't even like looking at any of it at all. I suppose it's a bit odd for a five year old to see her brain on film in front of her.

Good news was Booie gets to return to school, and her progress is good. We still expect full recovery, and my worries about her having MS were relieved after seeing the MRI and having it explained how it did not show MS. Yay.

That feeling was soon turned back downward when we went to the snack bar to get Boo something to drink and eat. I look in my wallet to find only five of the forty-five dollars that had been there previously. I won't even relay the swear words that were streaming through my head at that moment, but I think the girl at the counter was a little concerned I was going to spontaneously combust right then and there. I might right now just thinking about it and what came after, but I'm trying to be patient here, not that I have much of that left.

I tried to travel back in time in my head and remember John telling me he was taking money out of my purse. Yes. Yes, there was something about getting money from me for dinner, but damn it if I didn't remember anything else. Regardless, it wasn't going to do me a lot of good in getting something to eat or getting my car out of the parking garage. By that time, I could have made the same dramatic show as Booie had before, because I hadn't had anything to eat or drink all day.

I refrained and went to the information desk where the attendant confirmed what I already knew--you had to pay with cash or check (or check or personal cash as he said). And to make it worse, there wasn't an ATM in any convenient location, because why the hell would they put an ATM where you pay for parking? No, I had to make the trek to the cafeteria which is down one set of elevators, through a maze of hallways, and down another set of elevators. All of this with a child in a heavy wheelchair was not my idea of a good time, but I did it, cursing John the entire way.

I paid my $3.25 in foreign ATM transaction fees and got my $20, then dug through my purse to return the call John so conveniently made to the cell phone while I was in the doctor's office earlier. No John, so I left a bitchy message on his voice mail, chewing him out for taking all my money, not that it made me feel any better. It did earn me the what a bitch stare from a couple passersby.

I went back up through the maze of halls and elevators to pay for parking, and then proceeded to go down yet another set of elevators to get to the parking garage. (There are so many damn elevators in that hospital that they color code them.) I was lucky enough not to be blocked in, but I had to back the truck out some just to get Booie back into it and buckled in properly. Of course, as I'm doing all that, some people in another car think they are going to get my space and try to wait for me to finish up. Little do they know I don't give a fuck if they are waiting, and I'm not going to hurry for them. Their patience wore thin rather quickly, because I wasn't even able to get the wheelchair in the back before they left. Good thing they hadn't had the day of waiting and inconvenience I'd had so far.

Our drive back was quick enough for me to stop by Arby's and get a stress snack of fries with cheese sauce and a Jamocha shake and still get home in time for Hammy to get home from school. I should have gotten the big fries and shake, because home was not a relief. Boo threw several fits, Hammy got home and bugged the living shit out of me, and Kay called and told me how they are getting all this money back from their taxes. We owe. Not that I'm not happy for her, but it just sucks to be me right now. I tried talking to John on the phone some too, but he maintains it was my fault about the money because I didn't listen to him when he told me what he was doing. Prick. Just for the record, he has a branch of our bank in his building.

I just want to lock myself in my room all night and not talk to anyone. I have a lot of things on my mind that would make this day seem the hellish day that it is, but I just don't feel like talking about that right now. It just makes me mad, and nothing seems to come of that. I just wish John would get a clue and be nice to me, but I have the feeling I have a whole evening of arguing ahead of me, because he's not leaving any of this alone. Usually it's me being the pushy one. I guess things really do come back at you, huh.