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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