GIP... but not really
No one makes GIPs anymore (Gratuitous Icon Posts) -- posts only to show off a new icon. Well, to be fair, this isn't one either. Showing off a new icon is just bonus! Larger version of it:
I wanted one for posts about my upcoming surgery, and I've been watching for an artist I liked/reasonable priced for a while. What the heck happened to cheap/reasonable commissions? So many "artists" (and I use that term loosely) want $15 for an icon, when I wouldn't bother taking their art for free. I mean that literally: Some of them have offered free art as well as charging, and I didn't even like their work enough to go through the effort of posting a description of what I wanted.
Ah well, on to other subjects. Bad start to the weekend. My leg was having issues, so after watching it for 24 hours I decided I better go to urgent care (walk-in clinic) and have it looked at. Doctor there took one look at it (really, one look, didn't touch it or anything) and told me to go to the ER to be admitted to the hospital for IV antibiotics.
I nearly broke down crying, but I didn't have time for that. I went straight home, packed a bag with all the things I wished I had had the first time (phone charger! underwear!), and took Ellie New Cat to the vet for emergency boarding. (tersa, I was going to call you and my boss once I was settled into a room.)
And then I cried. I sat in the vet's parking lot and sobbed for a while. Going back into the hospital is my nightmare, especially for the same damned problem I had the first time!
The ER was great. Almost no waiting time: As soon as I sat down in the waiting room, they called me. I hadn't even had had time to put my bag down. The ER doctor disagreed with the urgent care doctor and sent me home with care instructions and such. I could have kissed him. I did say "I love you!" (in a silly way).
So that was most of Saturday. By the time I got home, I was stressed out of my mind and ready to crawl under my bed and never come out. (All this on top of no more than three hours of sleep per night for the previous six nights.)
Sunday was better. I slept almost ten hours straight. I feel a lot better now.
All I can say is that 2014 sucks. This is the worst year of my adult life. This medical stuff needs to end.
One day I'll write cheery posts again. Or cherry posts. Mmm, cherry.
I wanted one for posts about my upcoming surgery, and I've been watching for an artist I liked/reasonable priced for a while. What the heck happened to cheap/reasonable commissions? So many "artists" (and I use that term loosely) want $15 for an icon, when I wouldn't bother taking their art for free. I mean that literally: Some of them have offered free art as well as charging, and I didn't even like their work enough to go through the effort of posting a description of what I wanted.
Ah well, on to other subjects. Bad start to the weekend. My leg was having issues, so after watching it for 24 hours I decided I better go to urgent care (walk-in clinic) and have it looked at. Doctor there took one look at it (really, one look, didn't touch it or anything) and told me to go to the ER to be admitted to the hospital for IV antibiotics.
I nearly broke down crying, but I didn't have time for that. I went straight home, packed a bag with all the things I wished I had had the first time (phone charger! underwear!), and took Ellie New Cat to the vet for emergency boarding. (tersa, I was going to call you and my boss once I was settled into a room.)
And then I cried. I sat in the vet's parking lot and sobbed for a while. Going back into the hospital is my nightmare, especially for the same damned problem I had the first time!
The ER was great. Almost no waiting time: As soon as I sat down in the waiting room, they called me. I hadn't even had had time to put my bag down. The ER doctor disagreed with the urgent care doctor and sent me home with care instructions and such. I could have kissed him. I did say "I love you!" (in a silly way).
So that was most of Saturday. By the time I got home, I was stressed out of my mind and ready to crawl under my bed and never come out. (All this on top of no more than three hours of sleep per night for the previous six nights.)
Sunday was better. I slept almost ten hours straight. I feel a lot better now.
All I can say is that 2014 sucks. This is the worst year of my adult life. This medical stuff needs to end.
One day I'll write cheery posts again. Or cherry posts. Mmm, cherry.