Tuesday, September 25, 2012


This is pretty ad-hoc, since I only thought of this whole pre-season mess a few days ago. Frustrated with my Parkinson’s, forever and anon now known as “PD,” or “that asshole disease” if I’m feeling puckish and I can type without 49 corrections. I’m just so fucking tired of the zinging pain, electricity running OUT of my skin, face, eyeballs, which I can’t see properly out of anyway. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING tastes right. I couldn’t eat my spinach salad last night. It was too “bright!” whatever in the fuck that means. It made my scalp hurt. Yeah, my scalp. I had to settle for beef stew, which I had to gulp down because the carrots hurt the bottoms of my eyes and my sinuses. I’m losing weight. Worse, I’m losing my strength.

I know I have pneumonia in my right lung and I can’t get doctor one to look at it without a major trip to her office. I have an appointment on Thursday, where I will address this ALL with my psychiatrist. Managed Health Care? More like Managed Funerary Care. I could take one of my fabulous trips to the ER, but I always wait until I’m at death’s door. I’m already going through this, via a letter from the Fun Guys at the State of Florida:

“We, the aforementioned Fun Guys at the State of Florida have sent you to a collection agency for 511.00 for the month of March, er, September. You were supposed to spend 960.00 a month for health care before we paid dime 1. You only spent 511.00 for March, er, September. We know you only get 1160.00 a month from SSDI, but you could have lived under the overpass during the month of March, er, September. It wasn’t cold out. Then you could have paid us. Since you chose to spend your money foolishly on housing, food, ‘cause we cut your food stamps from 26.00 to 25.00, electricity and prescriptions that are hideously expensive because Big Pharma CARES you know, you only had 79 cents left from your 1160.00. We think you are irresponsible and we are sending you to a collection agency for what we told you was originally an 1111.00 bill and that we would pay for March, er September. Ooops. Our error. You must pay. I hope we may serve you in the future.” – Fun Guys at the State of Florida.

Bite Me. First off, I was no where near a hospital in September. September is still going on by my reckoning and I was no where near a hospital last September. Last March, I spent MOST of March IN the hospital and if that stay was only 511.00, I want to see the bill. Where in the hell did they stash me, in the dumpster out back of St. Joe’s? It’s entirely possible, since I was out of my mind for most of that stay, however I have dimmy, flashy memories of people in white coats and JC sitting with me in an actual chair (no there was no empty chair, Clint) and I remember leaving, so I have no idea what in hell they are dunning me for. I suppose I should work up a fine head of give-a-shit and look into it, but you know what? Fuck it.

This is so far down on shit I chase around with the State and Federal governments, just Fuck it. At this point, as long as I get my own self and JC taken care of, I don’t give a shit if they say I went to the Urgent Care Center on the Moon. I get my SSDI. I’m 6 months from getting my Medicare, where all my medicines will be paid for and that’s great, because I’ve got some heavy-duty shit I’m supposed to take. Advair diskus which helps me greatly is 250.00 for a 30-day supply. I have not been able to get it since I won my SSDI, which I won in 5 months, from the 1st filing, I was that ill.

Anyway, enough of my organ recital. I am just fighting the big battles now. SoF and their confuse-a-what with months. Maybe I should go work there. The place would implode. My confusion on top of theirs. A black hole of confusion, hee.

Well, big-gish news here. I have a friend in real life. Stop laughing. We do manage to cultivate friends. There no more normal than us, believe me. JC and myself and Al, who worked for the Military in Computers (feel free to let your mind wander down “those DOD people” roads) got to talking. He’s a hardware whiz, something I was abysmal at in school and in practice. Al came bopping over here with a couple of laptops and he was having some trouble quite figuring out how to get around some software captures. So, he and I put our heads together; got them fixed. We’re going to start a little neighborhood fixer-upper for computers.

Nothing big. The ‘bangers and hos and ‘tat folks buy these junkers at the flea markets for 50.00. they’re full of viruses and Trojans and worms. I have an arsenal of hotfixes on CD and can get the latest. Al does hardware. We’re both aces in BIOS. So, for 10 or 20 buck, Homie can get his stuff fixed, or recycle it, and we can use the parts. Always a way to make a buck. We can meet these cats at the Honduran cafeteria across the street. Al is fluent in Spanish. I can pretend to be Chloe O’Brian. JC said he’d be Bill Buchanan. JC put together our ad; he’s bonzer! So, that’s our Tuesday.

This is the biggest news! We have a new addition to our little family. Butterscotch (goes by “Mama”.) She was the pregnant stray, who showed up so many months ago. JC was instantly smitten by her. He was not overly familiar with the ways of cats and thought originally when she would ignore him that she had spurned him and he was hurt. I explained that this was not so, that he must be patient and she would return. She did, over and over. She disappeared when she delivered her babies. One survived, and for a short time, Mama brought the baby up here and she was teaching baby to hunt. 

Mama has always been JC’s. She comes at the sound of his voice and listens and obeys (when she chooses to) only him. We had lots of fun watching Mama and baby play and cavort. Baby was hit and killed 2 weeks ago. JC was devastated and wept; he is that tender a soul. She would always come up to be fed and JC would feed her, sitting outside talking to her in a low murmur. When he was hospitalized, I didn't see her at all. She knew he wasn't there. The day he returned, here she came. I was so pleased, but I hadn't worried. Cats are like that.

By chance, Al has a friend who picks up stray cats and has them neutered. I had an extra 15.00, and instead of wasting it on the Fun Guys at the State of Florida, I spent it wisely on Mama. She’s sleeping behind the couch where JC is sitting right now. The Fun Guys at the State of Florida can bite me.

Butterscotch, better known as "Mama"
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