It's been an absolute age...
...since I've discussed any ailment I may be experiencing on my blog. This would be due to the fact that, shock horror, I've been quite healthy since the bout of tonsillitis that put me in hospital back in October.
Anyway, the buck stops here.
I have a tummy ache. Not just any tummy ache, but one that requires me to be back & forth to the loo day and night. Do you realise what this means? No? It means that since Monday, I HAVE HAD NO GODDAMN SLEEP!
Everytime I drop off, my belly decides that this must be the time it cranks up the pain which has me running for the loo and, since I'm deprived of any kind of rest, this means that my mood is on a par with Satan when someone decides to chuck a vat of holy water at him.
Don't get it? It means when you see me coming, run away very fast or I may be forced to rip your throat out with my fingers because hey, doing that may cheer me up for 5 minutes.
My mood, of course, was made a billion times worse when the doctors automated 'can't be bothered to speak to you' system told me that 'the next available appointment is at 8.30am on Monday the 5th of March'. What the Fuck?!!? Goddammit I would have shat out my body weight and a small dog twice over by then.
This means I now have to wait until midnight, when all the cancellations are released, to attempt to get an appointment for tomorrow, which means that if I manage to fall asleep for the first time in 4 days, I'll have to wake up to call the motherfuckinggoddamn surgery. This, my lovely petalpoops, will not bode well for my mood.
Pray for D. He will so get the brunt of it.
Anyway, the buck stops here.
I have a tummy ache. Not just any tummy ache, but one that requires me to be back & forth to the loo day and night. Do you realise what this means? No? It means that since Monday, I HAVE HAD NO GODDAMN SLEEP!
Everytime I drop off, my belly decides that this must be the time it cranks up the pain which has me running for the loo and, since I'm deprived of any kind of rest, this means that my mood is on a par with Satan when someone decides to chuck a vat of holy water at him.
Don't get it? It means when you see me coming, run away very fast or I may be forced to rip your throat out with my fingers because hey, doing that may cheer me up for 5 minutes.
My mood, of course, was made a billion times worse when the doctors automated 'can't be bothered to speak to you' system told me that 'the next available appointment is at 8.30am on Monday the 5th of March'. What the Fuck?!!? Goddammit I would have shat out my body weight and a small dog twice over by then.
This means I now have to wait until midnight, when all the cancellations are released, to attempt to get an appointment for tomorrow, which means that if I manage to fall asleep for the first time in 4 days, I'll have to wake up to call the motherfuckinggoddamn surgery. This, my lovely petalpoops, will not bode well for my mood.
Pray for D. He will so get the brunt of it.
posted by LMPP at 2:25 PM
