While fresh in my mind

Monday is forever condemned to being about my health. This makes it boring, and easily skipped for those who have more interesting things to do like watching paint dry.

This is being pre-written so that I can remember the vibrant details exactly how they happened.

What happened was another wonderful doctor’s visit, precipitated by a letter from the government sent to the wrong address requesting more information about my condition. Imagine the surprise when the Dr. and I looked at the forms and wondered why they were asking the questions they already had the answers to. Details? Like, an official diagnosis perhaps? Gee, I’d like one too. Now would you mind lighting a fire under the medical services and getting ’round to it?

I guess they are operating on the principal that if they deny me the medical services I’m entitled to they don’t have to give me the benefits I’m entitled to. In this case “benefits” isn’t asking for a handout, it’s requesting the tax credit so my money doesn’t disappear up Justin Trudeau’s nose. Or wherever he puts it.

Curiously our province just did a big celebration about how their new round-the-clock MRI services had done 44,000 exams last year which was far more than they anticipated. That is exactly the procedure I’m still waiting for, even though the request for my case is marked “urgent”.

I had a few words about the lack of other appointments and tests that were supposed to happen. I mean, it was almost two months ago that I got into this unbreakable cycle of near-death experiences (you can’t swallow and cough at the same time – FYI). I wish the doctor had followed me out the door of the clinic, because the next uncontrolled coughing spasm hit the moment I got outside. By the time I got back home I was in a miserable state: along with the coughing comes a shortage of oxygen which gives you a miserable headache, never mind the physical exhaustion. Frankly my chest doesn’t stop aching anymore and I keep having to take pills to calm things down enough to sleep. You’re not supposed to take that stuff so consistently.

Who ever would have thought Limbo is worse than Hell.

Anyway, that’s enough griping. Next entry I promise will be something not so unpleasant. Probably.

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