I am so fucking stupid.
Arrrgh.
I have a doctor's appointment to discuss my bloodwork next Tuesday.
I have not given the blood for the bloodwork yet BECAUSE I FORGOT LIKE A MORON and now it will probably not be ready in time. Maybe I can get them to do the CBC w/diff posthaste, so I will at least be able to tell if I am anemic yet from all of this BLEEDING.
I will go anyway to discuss the Seroquel stuff and get new prescriptions and ask his opinion about the uterus of doom, but I sort of would really like to know if I need to change my prescriptions before I leave, because getting information out of the black hole that is the doctor's office is almost impossible.
Adding to the fun, I have to finish the entryway tomorrow because the writers' meeting is Friday, here, and I can't exactly leave painting stuff scattered around and a wall half-finished. I guess I do half of it tonight, instead. Great.
I fought like hell to get that appointment, and what good is it going to do me, exactly? Christ, I am such a tosky floop. I blame stress, and that is completely understandable, but it doesn't make me feel any better for forgetting something so fucking important. I realize I'm being a drama queen, but . . . fuck. What is wrong with me?
Naamah, you dumb shit. PUT A CALENDAR UP ALREADY.
I have a doctor's appointment to discuss my bloodwork next Tuesday.
I have not given the blood for the bloodwork yet BECAUSE I FORGOT LIKE A MORON and now it will probably not be ready in time. Maybe I can get them to do the CBC w/diff posthaste, so I will at least be able to tell if I am anemic yet from all of this BLEEDING.
I will go anyway to discuss the Seroquel stuff and get new prescriptions and ask his opinion about the uterus of doom, but I sort of would really like to know if I need to change my prescriptions before I leave, because getting information out of the black hole that is the doctor's office is almost impossible.
Adding to the fun, I have to finish the entryway tomorrow because the writers' meeting is Friday, here, and I can't exactly leave painting stuff scattered around and a wall half-finished. I guess I do half of it tonight, instead. Great.
I fought like hell to get that appointment, and what good is it going to do me, exactly? Christ, I am such a tosky floop. I blame stress, and that is completely understandable, but it doesn't make me feel any better for forgetting something so fucking important. I realize I'm being a drama queen, but . . . fuck. What is wrong with me?
Naamah, you dumb shit. PUT A CALENDAR UP ALREADY.