It's 8:30 am. on a Tuesday, I'm eating meatloaf and wearing a hospital bracelet. By the time you finish reading this entry, none of that will seem all that unusual.

It began like this:
Dokt0r: "HEY MARF! THANKS FOR COMIN' DOWN FOR YOUR USUAL DOCTORAL VISIT AND STUFF! WE ESPECIALLY APPRECIATE THAT YOU RE-SCHEDULED THE VISIT TO AN EARLIER DATE BECAUSE YOU JUST HAD A FEELING SOMETHING WAS WRONG! U R SO ATTENTIVE AND SMRT! LOLOLOLOLZORZ!"
Me: :|
Dokt0r, a week or so later: "HEY MARF! GUESS WHAT! THE RESULTS OF YOUR USUAL DOCTORAL VISIT TURNED OUT NOT-SO-USUAL! COME ON BACK AND LET'S DO MORE STUFF TOGETHER! LOLOLOLOLZORZ!"
Me: ok. :|
Dokt0r, a couple weeks later: "HEY MARF! THANKS FOR COMING DOWN AGAIN! WHAT I'M ABOUT TO DO, YOU ARE GONNA HATE IT SO BAD, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU SEE THE "INSTRUMENTS" I'M GONNA USE. EXPECT FOR ME TO MAKE YOU HATE LIFE A LITTLE! AS FOR ME, EVERY DAY IS PAY DAY SO YAY!YAY!YAY!YAY!YAY!YAY!"
Me: :| x 72

Phone call, couple weeks later: "HEY MARF! HOW YA DOIN SHUT UP IT DOESN'T MATTER GUESS WHAT, WE DISCOVERED MORE BAD STUFF SO WHY DON'T YOU COME ON DOWN TO THIS OTHER BIGGER PLACE SO WE CAN REALLY SHOW YOU PAIN AND BRACE YOURSELF, I'M GONNA SPEAK A SCARY WORD... SURGERY! HAHAHAHAHA Oh, that was fun for me.... BUT ANYWAY YEAH SEE YA THEN!" *cash register cha-ching, evil mad scientist twisted eye move*
Me: :| + :( + fuk u dude
In the meantime, three things happen. First, I get grateful that my employer is being very cool about all this and all the time I need to take off for it. I'm also really starting to appreciate the medical benefits said employer provides, though I'm not yet aware of the wasted money on co-payments. That happens a little further along as you will see. Second, I develop a crummy case of hives from stress (since an ER visit and 3 more doctor visits - 6 doctors total - yielded no explanation for the cause other than that), making me feel kinda overall sick and broken, all things considered. Then, third, something happens that makes me feel SO much better about life.

My boyfriend breaks up with me for no reason.

SO, back to the lovely tale!

Day of surgery. I'm actually sitting on the table, hospital garb, as "all set" as I can hope to be, when the dokt0r walks in. He looks at my chart for a minute or two, studiously, then:
Dokt0r: "HEY MARF! YA KNOW WHAT? I DECIDED I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS! I DECIDED YOU DON'T NEED THIS SURGERY! DON'T GET EXCITED .... YOU NEED ANOTHER TYPE OF SURGERY, WHICH WE DON'T HAVE THE EQUIPMENT FOR, WHICH I DON'T HAVE MUCH EXPERIENCE IN, AND I'M REFERRING YOU TO ANOTHER DOCTOR, at ANOTHER HOSPITAL. IN OTHER WORDS, YOU HAVE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN! THANKS FOR ALL THOSE THIRTY DOLLAR CO-PAYMENTS, I'M GONNA GO BUY SOME PLANTS FOR MY MANSION NOW, BYE-EE!"
Me: :| x 4,763
After about an hour of waiting there for them to arrange me with this new doctor, I'm told the appointment is the following week, at 7 am. See, this doctor is apparently only in on Tuesdays, and is busy all day, so she's coming in early to see me for the consultation. How nice of her. Unfortunately I am not a morning person, but I figured it was a small price to pay just to get all this fuking OVER WITH.

Which brings me to today, the day of this consultation. I work at a consulting firm, so to me consulting=just talking. Discussing. Arranging, scheduling, shit like that. So I'm surprised to learn when I get there that I'm going to be examined. Which really means poked and proded and made to hate life again for a little while. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I sleep a little too long but leave in time to make the 7 am. appointment. I get lost on the wrong route (never been to this particular hospital before - I say particular because I've been to every other fuking hospital in the tri-city area for all this) and also get stuck in traffic because apparently there are still people on this earth that seemingly have never seen a policeman pull a car over, but when I get there, I am lucky to find that my doctor's next appointment didn't call in, so I can still make mine. The hospital department I am sent to is actually part of the emergency wing, for some reason - not making me feel any better about my health and well-being - and it's proper name is "Ambulatory Outpatient Satellite". You can all join me in thinking "wtf??" on that one, especially the "satellite" part. As if things aren't getting surreal enough, Lurch shows up to escort me through a million hallways to the elevator, not swinging his arms even once the whole time. I pass a conference room full of doctors listening to some guy talking about radiology or colons or it could have been something about the thorax. A really fat nurse limps by reading a Cosmo. It's funny, the things you remember at times like these. You're probably thinking this is leading up to something really earth-shattering. Well it is, but not in the sense you're thinking it is.

New Dokt0r: "HEY MARF! HELLO2U, HAVE A BRACELET! I THINK I'M ABOUT 2 MINUTES OLDER THAN YOU! ANYWAY, GUESS WHAT! I'M NOT GOING TO CONSULT WITH YOU *OR* EXAM YOU! DON'T GET EXCITED.... HERE'S WHY I'M NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING: I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! YOUR OTHER DOCTOR'S INFO ABOUT YOU DOESN'T MAKE SENSE TO ME! I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU'RE HERE! LOLOLOLOLOZORZ!"
And here is the climax to all this. This is where I prove to you how zany the world can be and how the things you take for granted can flip around and send you to the floor aching with belly laughs.
I had to tell the doctor what was wrong with me. Allow me to repeat that. I had to tell a DOCTOR - IN MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY (I'd done a lot of research since this whole mess began) - what my condition was, including (this is the belly laugh part) DRAWING PICTURES. The first doc had drawn me a little sketch to help himself explain to me what he saw during the first make-me-hate-life procedure, and I drew the same sort of sketch for this new cheerleader - er, doctor. She pretty much got it but seemed a little stunned at how straight-forward and knowledgeable I was about it, as were the nurses she spoke to afterwards. I guess things like all this make you bullshit-intolerant, so I don't think twice about using all sorts of terms that would make the average human a bit uncomfortable. Anyway, after drawing pictures and making doctors squirm, the following happens:

Dokt0r: "HEY MARF! COME ON DOWN AGAIN NEXT WEEK FOR THIS CONSULTATION AND ANOTHER FUN MAKE-YOU-HATE-LIFE HAPPY FUN TIME HOUR. THEN WE'LL SCHEDULE SURGERY AGAIN, AS IF IT REALLY MATTERS WHAT WE SCHEDULE BECAUSE YOU SHOULD FUKING KNOW BY NOW THAT APPOINTMENTS AND CO-PAYMENTS DON'T MEAN WE'RE NECESSARILY GOING TO DO ANYTHING. ENJOY YOUR MEATLOAF. BYE-EE!"
She actually called me "The Queen of Being Sent Away." This made me think about the recent dumping from the boyfriend. Thankfully, that thought didn't make me sad - it made me laugh. I somehow found my way out through those million hallways and even saw Lurch again on the way out. I guess I never knew hospitals had concierges.

So basically, this is all still only about half over, and the worst is yet to come. I think maybe God is teasing me a little for crying wolf so much in the past ("hi employer, i can't come in today because I uh... have a doctor's appointment, yeah that's it...).

I'm going back to bed.

Disclaimer Marf is fine. I ranted to get this crap off my chest and for a laugh, no sympathy or anything needed - this is really no big deal except for the hastle involved. PS: No major tears for the ex-bf, and I've already met a couple cool new guys :D Rock.