19
April

A Tale of Two Rose Bushes

On Wednesday afternoon, I finally got around to calling Dottie to tell her that I had found the only other practice in town that took both the Humana and the Medicaid. (I still think it’s shitty that I had to do her job for her.) This wonderful person, who doesn’t seem to like to do her job, called me back the next morning at 9 (which wouldn’t have been a problem, except I didn’t get to sleep until about 6:30) to ask what I was talking about. I explained again, which led to her saying (again) that I couldn’t just make a doctor do a test I wanted done. FFS, who wants a colonoscopy? I mean, are there people out there that are begging for someone to stick a camera up their ass just for the hell of it? Personally, I would love to be able to go my whole life without this stupid procedure being done, but I apparently need it. So, she then called a few minutes later to tell me that I had an appointment Friday (today) with the partner of the guy that I found. At 9:30.

A 9:30 appointment is fine with me. It’s my dad that doesn’t believe in leaving the house before noon that leads to issues with the whole time thing. He was actually kind of okay with it, though, because he had to have some fasting labs done this week, so he needed to do those relatively early.

After getting the appointment stuff settled, my dad took my mom to the orthopedist (she officially got released) and to have her kidney labs done. (She goes for another check on that next week.) I was left alone with Amy, and I tried to get her to take a nap with me. (I was still seriously sleep deprived when they left, even though I got about 4 more hours of sleep before they left.) Amy wouldn’t calm down, though. It wasn’t her fault because Loretta’s lawn maintenance guys came by and were working on her yard. Then they started working on ours. This time was different, though. This time, instead of doing the grass and weeds, they started cutting some stuff down. One thing was a plum tree, which was totally fine with us. (The plums on it were godawful.)

The thing that wasn’t so fine was that they started cutting down the running rose bush that my grandfather planted a year or two (1994 or 1995) before he died. It wasn’t just any rose bush, either. It was one that was part of two running rose bushes that were at one of my mom’s dad’s dad’s brother’s house. One was red and one was pink. After a few decades of growing side by side, their pollen got a little slutty and the roses turned this kind of ivory rose color.

trees and well
(This picture was taken from Nana’s house. The trees in the distance are at that house. There is still part of the rose bush there.)

Anyway, this rose bush is part of a rose bush that has been in our family for years. It is important to her because of that, and because it was planted by her dad. She adored this rose bush when she was a little girl and it was one of those things that she always wanted to have at her own home one day. She was so happy when it was planted. When she found out that it had been cut down yesterday, while she was gone, she was pissed and heartbroken.

She and my dad told off the yard folks. They said that Loretta told them it was fine to cut it down. (She thought it was something wild. She was very apologetic when she found out.) My parents and I were shocked that they thought it was cool to chop something down in a yard because a neighbor said it was okay. They (the company) thought it was cool because the person paying them was the one who said to cut it down. They didn’t knock on the door. They didn’t do anything to see if the homeowners might want to have a say in what was going on in their yard. I know that they had to see me in the living room. You can see shadows from outside.

I would have gone outside if I thought they were going to cut the bush down completely. I thought that maybe they’d get rid of a dead tree stump in the yard before they’d chop down a rose bush. I mean, it seems like if you were going to get rid of something in the yard, you might go for something that is dead before you go after something alive. And they should have known the difference between a wild plant and a damn rose bush.

Anyway, mom got some of the branches from the bush so that she can root them and start over again. So, hopefully that will work. Still, it is rather annoying.

This morning, I went to the new gastroenterologist. He was really, really nice. He said that they only way to figure out what was going on with my gut was to do a colonoscopy. He’s also going to do another upper endoscopy that day. He said he’ll biopsy part of my small bowel and colon. So, that will be fun. (Sarcasm, obviously…unless your Dottie, then you probably think that I’m jumping up and down over the idea of having parts of vital organs messed with.)  He thinks that it’s still possible that I could have Celiac or IBD, even though I’ve had the blood work that said it was unlikely. He said it could be something else. Cancer is one of the possibilities. So are hemorrhoids. (It’s bad when you start rooting for it to be hemorrhoids.) He also seemed to think it was a bit ridiculous that I’ve had these problems for so long and no one has really taken some of them seriously.

I had my mom go with me this morning because I was so worried that the doctor would be rude or intimidating or something. She didn’t need to, though, because (like I said) he was so very nice.

So I have a camera going up my butt and one going down my throat next Thursday. That kind of sounds like some kind of truly fucked up health care fetish porn. (I’m sure that I’ll get some more kinky people checking this blog out because I mentioned kink, porn, and fetish. And I try so hard not to judge fetishes, but sometimes it is almost impossible not to.) Wish me luck…and for you horny, kinky bastards, I’m sorry that this was a waste of time.

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16
April

Those Evil Brown People

Yesterday after the bombings in Boston, it seemed like some people thought the best people to blame (or issue death threats again, in a few cases) were Muslims. One girl on Twitter (whose parents share the same ideas) even justified this by saying that Muslims were the only ones to ever use bombs against American targets. Seriously? Has she been skipping History class? I’m pretty sure that Eric Robert Rudolph and Timothy McVeigh weren’t Muslims. Theodore Kaczynski (the Unabomber) wasn’t a Muslim either, nor was George Metesky (the Mad Bomber). The 1958 bombing of the Hebrew Benevolent Congregation Temple in Atlanta wasn’t carried out by Muslims. The Wall Street bombing in 1920 wasn’t carried out by Muslims, nor were the Black Tom Explosion in 1916, the LA Times bombing in 1910, the Bath School disaster in 1927, the firebombing of Vernon Dahmer in 1966, the 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham in 1963, and  the bombing of the home of Harry T. Moore and his wife in Mims, Florida in 1951 are all examples of bombings that were not carried out by Muslims. In fact, the ones that I’ve listed were carried out by white people.

I don’t understand why people think that the only crimes in this country that occur are carried out by persons of color* or people from certain religious backgrounds. Actually, I do. It’s because we have a very racist mentality that is fed by the fear-mongering that goes on from politicians and pundits and even the media. People justify this bigotry by focusing on the stories that confirm their hatred (i.e. 9/11) and forgetting that there are a hell of a lot of crimes that happen every day that are carried out by non-Muslims and non-POCs.

Most people in this world are not dangerous. Most Muslims are not dangerous. Terrorists, members of hate groups, people who commit violent crimes, etc. do not make up the majority of the population, and they do not make up the majority (or even a significant portion) of different cultural groups, religions, and races. This is why groups and individuals that commit this sort of thing are generally labeled ”extremists”, because they are in the extreme. They aren’t the norm and they shouldn’t be treated like they are. This hatred of anyone that we choose to label as being “bad” or “evil” because of their religion, race, culture, sexual orientation, gender, sex, or any other difference is sickening. This bigotry that so many carry is truly messed up and it needs to stop. All the bigotry does is increase the amount of hate that exists in the world, which increases the likelihood of someone acting out in a violent manner.

We don’t know who committed the bombings. It could be an Islamic extremist group. It could be a group of white supremacists. It could be anyone. Whoever it was did a bad thing, but their actions do not have to define anyone else and their actions do not have to inspire others to blame or hate anyone else.

* = I’ve seen a lot of people call for executions, deportations, and torture of Hispanics, Asians, Blacks, etc. any time a POC is accused of a crime–even minor acts of vandalism.

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15
April

These are a Few of My Least Favorite Things

A few days or so ago, there was this thing on Tumblr where followers could do a “quiz” about a person to see if they knew much about them. One of the questions was on the person’s dislikes. Chiara (aka lainwen) was the only person who I received the answers from. (Of course, the only way to receive those was through fan mail on there–she’d sent them 2-3 times on ask, so maybe there’s something bug on Tumblr when it comes to that feature.) Anyway, she pointed out that she didn’t know things I dislike and I realized that on there, I don’t really talk about things I don’t like that much. I don’t really do that in many places. (Except when it comes to politics and personal events.) So, I thought that maybe I could devote a blog entry to things that I just don’t like.

  1. Carrots – According to my mom, I liked them in baby food form. That was the last time I liked them, though.
  2. Celery – Never liked it.
  3. Peanut butter – Never liked it, except for natural peanut butter. Since most people like PB, it’s one of those where people ask me if I’m allergic and I have to say that I’m just strange. (Everyone in my family loves the stuff, so I’m even a freak in the family when it comes to peanut butter.)
  4. Asparagus – I had some in elementary school. I have refused to eat it ever since.
  5. Seaweed – We ate some pieces of dried seaweed (or something like that) one day in third grade, during a friend’s show and tell type thing. It was nasty. I refuse to ever have anymore.
  6. Muggy weather – This has to do with my breathing/asthma.
  7. Tornadoes/severe weather – I was within about a mile of a tornado that hit Huntsville in 1989. (On this map, find where it says Chelsea. Above that, there’s a crooked gray line. That line should extend to the road that is labeled at 53 [at the top]. I lived right off road that was marked by the crooked line, but a little more toward 53.) Anyway, said tornado could be heard at our house and the anxiety from that led to ongoing panic/anxiety related to severe weather.
  8. Wearing shoes and socks. I don’t mind sandals or even other types of shoes. I don’t even mind socks by themselves, but wearing both is uncomfortable. (I feel like I can’t breathe when my feet are completely covered by both, which I think has less to do with my lungs and more to do with the eccentricities of being me.)
  9. Old Spice – My grandfather (Dadada–aka the bad one) wore it in excess. I associate it with him.
  10. Puffs Plus – I’ve always had sinus troubles and the Puffs Plus tissue would cause my nose to hurt and itch more because of the Aloe. (Yes, I itched because of the Aloe. I know, it’s not supposed to work that way.)
  11. The Office – I don’t know if I don’t like the UK version, but I know I sure as hell do not like the US one.
  12. Chihuahuas – Nana’s brother had one when I was about 5. I accidentally stepped on it’s tail and it yipped at me. This scared the crap out of me and I haven’t ever really gotten over it.
  13. Tom Cruise – I was sort of indifferent to him prior to his outburst on The Today Show in 2005. After he basically went on a tirade about how psychiatry is evil, I started a boycott of his films, interviews, etc. This boycott is still going on. Normally, I give up on boycotts after a while, but I refuse to get over what he said and how he behaved. (Obviously, I’m not a big fan of Scientology, either.)
  14. Green – I don’t like the color. Whenever I would get green notebooks or binders for school, I would assign them to subjects I didn’t enjoy, like science or math.
  15. Science, math/engineering programs/space program – I know science and math are important. I know engineering is important. I know the space program is important. I grew up in a school system where priority was placed on science and math and turning its students into engineers that could work on Space and Defense programs in town. I had teachers that thought it was more important to do things like Math Olympiad (which I was apart of in fourth and fifth grade) instead of Art and Music. I hated that the arts were being ignored, because I always liked them more. I hated that we put so much emphasis in school on space and not enough on classes that taught us about history and culture. I hated that it was expected that we like these types of programs. So, I did what any quiet person with a defiant streak in them would do: I learned to hate the thing I was expected to love.
  16. The Lord of the Rings – I think that Peter Jackson is brilliant. I think the cast members are very talented. I do not like the trilogy. I do not plan on even trying out the Hobbit franchise.
  17. Bananas – This relates to Dadada. The smell, the taste, the texture, and the word all make me nauseated. Pictures do, too.
  18. Various forms of transportation – This is another phobia/anxiety thing. I’ve been in 4 car accidents with my mom, 1 with Nana, and the one with Jennifer from YSA.
  19. Whistling – I hate the sound of it.
  20. Justin Bieber – Okay this was pretty much a fairly mild dislike at first. I don’t think he’s very good at singing. He’s very nasal and tends to be off-key. Of course, his remarks in the guestbook for The Secret Annex did not endear him to me.

There are other things I dislike. There are things that I dislike more than the stuff on this list, but I thought that this list is a good (or bad) start.

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12
April

Taking the Fall

Tuesday night seemed like it was going to be just another random night, where my family watched The Voice and basically just acted like we normally do. It sort of changed when my mom picked Amy up and was going to put her in her litter box. Amy jumped, while still about five feet in the air, and landed (somewhat like a cat) legs first. She started screaming, or that’s how I’d described it if she was human, and we were all next to her within a second. My mom held her, while calling the vet. My dad ran to his room to change from shorts to jeans. I sat and tried to calm her down. Mom asked the secretary at the vet’s office if we could go ahead and bring her in to get her checked out. Since it was about 6:52 and they close at 7:00, they said no. (We live five minutes away, so we could have gotten there before they closed, but mom wanted to make sure that they would actually be there and let us in when we got there.) They told us to keep her off her feet for the night and bring her in Wednesday morning, so we did our best to do that. (She still managed to walk around some.)

Mom thought she had broken her left front leg. I thought it was a sprain. After being examined the next morning, we found out that she just had soft tissue damage–aka a sprain. (I know that those can be more painful than breaks sometimes, so I shouldn’t have said it was just soft tissue damage.) Anyway, the vet gave her something for the pain. They also went ahead and did the next batch of vaccines she would need this weekend. The doctor also said that she was doing well, other than her leg, and is growing at the proper rate for a puppy of her age and breed. (She gained an ounce since she went to get her worm pill over the weekend.) By Wednesday night, she was running circles around us like she had been before she’d fallen twenty four hours earlier. She hasn’t tried to jump out of our arms when we carry her, though.

Wednesday was also the day for my trip to see the family doctor about getting a referral for a different gastroenterologist. When I explained what had happened, he was more than willing to get me a referral to someone else. When I went to get said referral from the “referral person” on his side of the office, she had already gotten one prepared for me…for the same doctor that had laughed at the idea of doing the colonoscopy. She was going to refer me back to the doctor that I was trying to get away from. I told her this, and she had to ask why I needed to see a different doctor, so I told her that that doctor didn’t want to do a test I needed. She proceeded to laugh at this and say, “Well, another doctor won’t necessarily do a test that you want done if you ask for it.” This was when I finally snapped…or just raised my voice a little and got very snippy toward her. I told her that it wasn’t a test I wanted, but one that my hematologist said I needed. I was getting more annoyed by the moment and nearly started crying, because whether I’m angry or sad, the tears always seem to start flowing. I don’t know if it was my annoyed tone, the fact that I wasn’t just doctor-shopping so I could get a test that isn’t necessary, or the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes, but she started to take me more seriously at this point. She apologized and she tried calling someone and they didn’t take my insurance. This was when she did something that I found even more annoying: she told me to go home, call my insurance, get a list of doctors who take my insurance, and call her back with the one I want to see. Maybe she thought I would enjoy this or would make things easier for both of us. It doesn’t. She’s having me do her job for her. Other referral people, including the person on the other side of that very office, know which doctor accepts which insurance plan. It shouldn’t have surprised me that she lacked this knowledge and that she didn’t want to do the job herself, since this is a woman who always takes thirty minutes to an hour to do something that takes every other person with that position five minutes max. She’s not new to the job. She just doesn’t do it very well. And she almost always pisses someone off–either a patient, the patient’s family, a doctor, or a nurse at the nurse’s station that she works at. Honestly, I don’t know how she manages to keep her job at all.

Yesterday, we had some pretty bad storms and I, of course, had my typical anxiety related to the storms. Though we had a severe storm pass over, it wasn’t really that bad (damage-wise), but there were some that were relatively close that did some damage. I’m glad that it wasn’t any worse. (Sometimes this weather makes me want to go to some place like San Diego where there is no real weather.) Oh, and because the weather was so bad, a lot of schools and school systems around here closed early, which meant that my therapist had to cancel our group therapy session for this month. So I will have gone two months without any type of therapy.

Oh, and today, Amy officially got her lifetime license from the city. My parents had to go to Animal Services with her rabies info and apply for it. Now the city officially knows that we have a new pet. So anyone who is super judgmental and who thinks that the proper authorities haven’t been informed that Amy lives with us can rest assured that they do. And obviously, there weren’t any flags on our names or address or anything that keeps us from having pets. So…yeah. Basically, if you think we shouldn’t have pets and you want to be rude about it, you can kindly go fuck yourself now. You could have done that before, but now you especially can. Also, my mom asked and found out how much it costs for a person on Medicaid (i.e. me) to get a pet spayed or neutered in this area. Apparently, it costs $5. I guess that means that enough other very, very poor people have pets that they have an established rate for us. So, if you think poor people shouldn’t have pets…I refer to the kindly go fuck yourself remark. (Yes, those comments that were made still bug me. I’ve got to learn to stop obsessing over the bad stuff.)

 

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12
April

A Very Special Glee

Last night’s Glee was amazing. That’s right. I said it was amazing. Actually, it was fucking brilliant. It was one of the best episodes I have ever seen of any show. And you want to know why? Because it was real.

Yes, I said that it was awesome because it was real. I know it is a work of fiction, but it was so realistic. It reminded me of a time in high school, just about five or six months after Columbine, when there was a lockdown at my high school because someone thought they saw someone walking toward the school with a gun. The panic that ensued in the episode reminded me of what everyone was like when the words “Mississippi Red” came over the intercom. The crying and anxiety that the characters experienced reminded me of what my classmates and I were like when we waited to find out if we were safe. And the relief when it was over reminded me of what it was like when we found out that we hadn’t been in any real danger. (If I remember correctly, the guy didn’t have a gun and he wasn’t even really heading toward the school.) We didn’t know that until afterward, so the anxiety that we had was real. The fear we had was real. And the fear and anxiety portrayed in the writing and acting on last night’s episode was very realistic. Even the way that it seemed like they were in lockdown forever, when it was really just a few minutes, was realistic. When you’re in that kind of situation, every second feels like an hour. That they were able to portray that on a sixty minute episode amazed me.

I know that people think that it is exploiting Newtown and Sandy Hook, but I don’t really think it is. Think about this little fact: within one month after the Sandy Hook tragedy, there were 5 other school shootings. Five. That was in one month. School shootings don’t belong to just one school. They belong to every school, everywhere. Blaming Glee for having the episode “too soon” after Sandy Hook isn’t fair. When would it have been acceptable for the school shooting episode to take place? Should they have waited until there hadn’t been a school shooting for a few months? Chances are that that, unfortunately, won’t be happening anytime soon in this country.

As for people upset by it being Becky (played by Lauren Potter) that brought the gun to school and thinking that this is Glee‘s way of demonizing people with Down Syndrome, I just want to shake my head at you guys. Becky didn’t bring the gun to school with the thought that she was going to hurt anyone. She did it because she was scared that she would need to protect herself. This is the kind of thing that causes a lot of kids to bring guns to school–most of them are not ones who have Down Syndrome or any form of disability. And, for the people who are jumping on the anti-Glee bandwagon for this without seeing the episode, they should know that Becky didn’t shoot anyone. The gun discharged twice accidentally. She didn’t hurt anyone. And she was just as scared by it going off as everyone else in the episode.

Would it make people feel better if the person who brought the gun in was someone who had a history of mental illness? Or would they feel better if it was someone with a history of violence? Would it be okay if it was someone who was poor? Or should it just be a some random white boy who happens to be a loner? Is it just because she has Down Syndrome that people are thinking that she shouldn’t be capable of bringing a gun to school? That doesn’t seem very fair. Lauren Potter’s mother, Robin Sinkhorn, commented on the outrage about Becky being the shooter, “The shootings are still fresh in all of our minds. If Becky’s going to be fully included on the show — which they’ve done such a good job about that and giving her these juicy stories — then why not Becky? Whether she has Down syndrome or not, it doesn’t matter … Why wouldn’t it be somebody with Down syndrome because she’s a kid. She’s a teenager. She makes stupid decisions just like other teenagers do.”

Another thing to think about is that Glee is not the first television series to have a show with a school shooting in it. In 1999, there was an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called “Earshot” and it was originally scheduled to air the week after Columbine. (Obviously, they didn’t know Columbine was going to happen when they came up with that episode, but there had already been quite a few well-publicized school shootings in the year or two before Columbine.)  Buffy fans didn’t get to see it until September. Degrassi: The Next Generation had a shooting in 2004. (This one is rather well-known since one of the victims of the shooting was played by Drake Aubrey Graham.) In 2006, One Tree Hill there was a school shooting episode where a main character ended up dying. There have been so many more with shootings at schools. So this is not just some thing that only Glee did. This is something that has become a very prevalent part of television shows that are marketed to younger audiences.

School violence is reality. And we can’t expect for fictional outlets, like television, movies, and books, to completely ignore this facet of reality. This is the reality that kids face when they walk into school everyday, even if they don’t realize it. This wasn’t an exploitation of a single event, but a wake-up call about what life is really like in a society like ours. If the episode made you uncomfortable, good. No one should feel comfortable with the idea that, one minute, their child can be laughing and joking like a child should do and, the next, they’re on the floor of a room in their school, terrorized by the thought that someone could come to where they are and end their life. This wasn’t an episode that was supposed to make people feel happy or joyous or anything like that. It was one that was meant to make you think and feel. It was a reminder that this culture needs to change in significant ways if we expect kids to have safe environments to learn and grow up in.

 

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6
April

Everything Old Is New Again

Last year, after we moved back into the house, one of our neighbors died. Shortly after his death, his family moved out of their house. And for the last few months, that house, along with those of two of our other immediate neighbors, remained empty. A couple of weeks ago, someone started moving in the house where the person died. It’s actually one of our old neighbors (from a while ago) moving back into their old house. Luckily, it’s a neighbor that we like and not someone like Satan’s Spawn. As far as I know, that guy is still in the Sunshine State. (Sorry about that, Florida.)

Loretta, who has owned the house across from us since I was in middle school, is moving back into her house after at least ten years of renting it out to various families. Loretta is a really sweet person, so I’m glad to have her back in the neighborhood. She’s not going to be living alone this time, because she’s a bit too old to and has had some health problems since the last time she was here. (She’s old enough to be the grandmother of a guy whose class I was in at some point during elementary and middle school, so that probably puts her in the 70+ age range.)

Anyway, since she moved in, she has invited my parents over and (without our knowing) had her landscapers mow, weed-eat, and edge our lawn. (We’d had it mowed a few days before she moved in, but she had it done again.) It was rather nice of her to do that, thought she was scared that my parents would get upset that she did it without asking. (They didn’t.)

So, now that she’s back, we actually have someone nearby to interact with…someone that my mom and I feel comfortable around. (My dad feels comfortable around her, too, but he’s acquainted with a couple of other folks around here.)

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5
April

Doctors Who Suck and The Patients Who See Them

Yesterday, I had my gastroenterologist appointment. I wasn’t expecting much from the appointment, especially with the doctor being so dismissive in previous appointments and with my tendency to be cowed by some most doctors. I didn’t really do that this time, but the results were the same. The doctor was dismissive and pretty much laughed in my face when I told him what was wrong. He said that my bed needed to be raised up so that I wouldn’t have heartburn, after I told him that the issue was a squeezing/cramping/clamp-feeling-type of pain in my throat and the center of my chest. And when I mentioned that the hematologist had requested that I have a colonoscopy, he said that was ridiculous. He looked it up in my chart and said he had the letter from the hematologist saying the same thing, so he knew I wasn’t asking for a colonoscopy just to have one–because I guess people may do that. He said there was absolutely no reason to think that I could be losing vitamins, minerals, or blood via my digestive tract. (You know, because actually seeing blood coming out doesn’t really mean it is coming out.) When I tried to push the issue, he just continued to dismiss it. He did offer to write me a prescription for a hospital bed, which I politely declined.

He did say that the pain that I have could be caused by a hernia of some sort from the gastric bypass surgery, but he didn’t seem concerned by that thought. It seems odd that I would have developed said hernia almost 10 years post-op and that it would hurt worse when I eat certain foods. He suggested that I go see the former partner of the surgeon who did the surgery if I’m concerned about it. I don’t particularly want to go back to that clinic, even if my old surgeon has moved out of town. The last time that I tried to see my surgeon, I was told I had to see a nutritionist there and that it wouldn’t be covered by my insurance, so I’d need to fork over a lot of cash that day. The nutritionist’s office was more like an office where they sold their own mixtures of vitamins and powders and stuff. (Basically, it was retail operation and not a medical office.) Even if my suck-tastic surgeon isn’t there anymore, I have a feeling that they are still doing the same style of business.

My dad went with me into the appointment because I knew without someone there that I would back down easier. I also thought maybe his presence might make the doctor be a little less dismissive. It didn’t. Apparently the only family member that he (the doctor) is afraid of is my mother. (I definitely do not blame him for fearing her. She can be a force to be reckoned with.)

Anyway, after relaying all of the information back to my mom, and having my dad vouch for my actually standing up for myself with the doctor, my mom decided that I needed to find a different GI doctor. (I had already figured this out.) So we called UAB and found out that I have an appointment there next Wednesday and that I can get a new referral then. So I get to wait another week to find out which doctor I might get to see, and then I’ll wait however long it takes to see the new doctor.

In non-abdominal related news, Nana called this morning. She said she’d had a dream that we had gotten a dachshund, at which point my mom told her that we’d gotten Amy. (We hadn’t told her because she isn’t exactly pro-dog or any non-cat type of animal.) Anyway, she was actually excited and wants us to bring Amy down there so she can meet her. She even said that she wouldn’t get upset if Amy has an accident (potty-type) on her floors, which was shocking. (When we first got Xander, she wouldn’t let him in her house for long because she was afraid he would pee on her floors.)

She then said that my cousin and his wife had gotten three cats. Nana, who (as I’ve mentioned) is a cat fan, pointed out to my mom’s sister that three cats could mess up a house to the same extent as five dogs. (My mom’s sister is a bit anti-dog/pro-cat, but so is Nana, so it’s strange that Nana is challenging her on the cat/dog front.) We had three cats for a long time, so I know that they can get a bit messy. (My mom used to have to clean our hall’s carpet everyday because there was an ongoing pissing contest between two of our three cats. They were spayed, had 3 litter boxes, lots of toys, lots of attention, and each had their own places to hang out. These two just hated one another.) I think Nana was just trying to prove that we weren’t necessarily as bad as my mom’s sister seems to think we are. Anyway, I hope that they have fun with their new kitties and that they aren’t too much trouble. I miss having cats sometimes–okay, I miss our old cats a lot of the time, even though they’ve been dead for almost 10 years now.

I was going to mention something else, but I totally forgot what it was.

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