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Adventures in Urgent Care...

12/22/2010

 
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After roughly three months of good, bad, and agony, my peoples (and a headache ranking 11 on a scale of 10) convinced me to get my ass into an Urgent Care Center. The joys of being self-employed with no current insurance. I have to damn near go blind in one eye or have shit start leaking from some place it isn't supposed to be before I'll even consider health care. Call it stubborn, call it fatalistic. I call it hanging on for dear life to the scrap of the American dream. That is, if my left-side sinus didn't manage to implode on itself, leaving me in a jibbering heap like I just watched a Jersey Shore marathon or some similar fucktarded mess.

So there I am, sitting in the Urgent Care, listening to some cockamamie fucking soap opera and wishing they would turn down the fish in the waiting room when they called me back. After going through the vital signs and all that usual mess, I was led back to a room...a children's room. Not that I really gave two shits and a fuck, just so long as they could turn that shit down a bit. After an eternity jammed into five minutes, David, the PA, arrived on the scene. What was the problem, he asked.

Well, I replied, as far as I could tell, I had it narrowed down to either:
A. a whoop-ass sinus infection
B. a brain tumor
C. a gypsy curse
D. a brainworm trying to find daylight

Going through scoping my ears and listening to me breath (and throwing out the usual on why I should stop smoking...I said was working on eliminating the Black n Milds, but try doing that after seven headaches in 2 1/2 days...), he tilted my head back and proclaimed he was going to check my boogers.
 
Wait, what? Did a trained medical professional just say he was going to check my boogers? Facepalm. Double facepalm. I just turned 35 years old, and another grown-ass man just asked to see my boogers. I obliged, the smartass just about worn out of me. One sample and two more prescriptions, and I was on my way again. This shit doesn't work...I'm going back and either asking for Morphine Lite (still got two businesses to run) or for a PA to drill a hole in my skull to let the demons out...

Too bad Louisville doesn't have a Chinatown...betcha I get get someone there to do it...or at least get a hot Asian chick to walk on me...


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