I Was In A Car Crash Or Was It The War?
My file:
How much bullshit can you fit into one folder? *
Monday morning has been on Replay for the past 72 hours. I am so mentally and phsyically drained from what happened, that I needed to wait a couple of days to recooperate. The thought alone leaves me exhausted and I can already feel the headache creeping in.
I had a HUGE fight with Dr. Wolfe.
He continues to patronize me with his answers to my questions and I am beyond fed up.
I asked him, "When is all this going to be over?"
He writes, "Whenever you say."
Choking back tears, I replied, "Please, don't BS me."
He then writes, "GROW UP"
That was it. The time bomb that has been ticking inside me exploded. KABOOM! I could not believe he said that to me. Set it off, motherfucker! I completely flew off the handle, and went on the rampage that I have been fantasizing about (remember?) almost nightly. I was yelling, crying, hyperventalating and totally making a scene. I don't even remember what I said, it was all very sudden.
I didn't have the strength to get up from my seat, but there was a lot of finger pointing and head swaying. Looks liike all these months watching trash TV has paid off. My body is very weak and my voice goes out mid-sentence just chit-chatting with my mom about Top Design, and here I was screaming. So, how much I was able to get out and to actually be heard or understood is unknown. Between each syllable was a gasp for air.
Come to think of it, it started moments before when he told me my expectations were unrealistic.
I crumbled and was waaaaay out of control. I was fighting on my own, with no one there to back me up or defend me. It literally took the wind and all the energy that was left out of my body. I'm so tired. I was running on adrenaline and at the time, I was proud for sticking up for myself and unleashing the Brooke inside me felt good, but a while later I semi-regretted my actions and was pretty embarrassed.
I swallowed my pride and apologized because I'm an ADULT. And the next day, after the storm settled and I had calmed down, I sent him this email to explain the reasons for my big blowout. He emailed me back just hours later with the opening lines: "Chloe, I love you dearly and want to do everything within my power to help you--" I know he cares about me, but I don't want to hear it. I'm taking back what's mine.
Before I left, I did get to see Nora to schedule my next operation. What was once fine and routine, has made me so sick. Just the knowing I have to go back to the hospital again makes me want to vomit. Usually I'm very excited to set the next date (nothing gets accomplished waiting around at home watching Maury) but man, I'm walking around with a barf bag here.
That's why I purposely took November off. No IVs, hospital gowns, or oversized socks with paw prints on them until December 2nd. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I've been looking forward to it all year. I don't want anything to interfere with my turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and cheesy vegetable casserole. The last thing I want is a Thanksgiving meal on a cafeteria tray or to be home but too doped up to enjoy the peanut butter cookies that I asked to be brought back this year. Plus, it's also my mom's birthday and my sister's the day after and things just wouldn't be right without my lovely deaf voice singing "Happy Birthday"
Gina:
Dr. Fernando:
* It's so fat, it has to sit on a table in the hallway, because it doesn't fit into the plastic folder bins that are attached onto the wall next to the door.
** I texted my mom afterwards, "I used my dont bs me line" , and she texted me back , "Good girl."
How much bullshit can you fit into one folder? *
Monday morning has been on Replay for the past 72 hours. I am so mentally and phsyically drained from what happened, that I needed to wait a couple of days to recooperate. The thought alone leaves me exhausted and I can already feel the headache creeping in.
I had a HUGE fight with Dr. Wolfe.
He continues to patronize me with his answers to my questions and I am beyond fed up.
I asked him, "When is all this going to be over?"
He writes, "Whenever you say."
Choking back tears, I replied, "Please, don't BS me."
He then writes, "GROW UP"
That was it. The time bomb that has been ticking inside me exploded. KABOOM! I could not believe he said that to me. Set it off, motherfucker! I completely flew off the handle, and went on the rampage that I have been fantasizing about (remember?) almost nightly. I was yelling, crying, hyperventalating and totally making a scene. I don't even remember what I said, it was all very sudden.
I didn't have the strength to get up from my seat, but there was a lot of finger pointing and head swaying. Looks liike all these months watching trash TV has paid off. My body is very weak and my voice goes out mid-sentence just chit-chatting with my mom about Top Design, and here I was screaming. So, how much I was able to get out and to actually be heard or understood is unknown. Between each syllable was a gasp for air.
Come to think of it, it started moments before when he told me my expectations were unrealistic.
I crumbled and was waaaaay out of control. I was fighting on my own, with no one there to back me up or defend me. It literally took the wind and all the energy that was left out of my body. I'm so tired. I was running on adrenaline and at the time, I was proud for sticking up for myself and unleashing the Brooke inside me felt good, but a while later I semi-regretted my actions and was pretty embarrassed.
I swallowed my pride and apologized because I'm an ADULT. And the next day, after the storm settled and I had calmed down, I sent him this email to explain the reasons for my big blowout. He emailed me back just hours later with the opening lines: "Chloe, I love you dearly and want to do everything within my power to help you--" I know he cares about me, but I don't want to hear it. I'm taking back what's mine.
Before I left, I did get to see Nora to schedule my next operation. What was once fine and routine, has made me so sick. Just the knowing I have to go back to the hospital again makes me want to vomit. Usually I'm very excited to set the next date (nothing gets accomplished waiting around at home watching Maury) but man, I'm walking around with a barf bag here.
That's why I purposely took November off. No IVs, hospital gowns, or oversized socks with paw prints on them until December 2nd. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I've been looking forward to it all year. I don't want anything to interfere with my turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and cheesy vegetable casserole. The last thing I want is a Thanksgiving meal on a cafeteria tray or to be home but too doped up to enjoy the peanut butter cookies that I asked to be brought back this year. Plus, it's also my mom's birthday and my sister's the day after and things just wouldn't be right without my lovely deaf voice singing "Happy Birthday"
Gina:
Dr. Fernando:
* It's so fat, it has to sit on a table in the hallway, because it doesn't fit into the plastic folder bins that are attached onto the wall next to the door.
** I texted my mom afterwards, "I used my dont bs me line" , and she texted me back , "Good girl."