Upset stomach…
…hopefully, this ginger ale I’m drinking will help. I don’t want to be sick for the Pops concert tonight!
Or maybe I’m getting a godammed ulcer from thinking about all of that doctor and hospital shit. I hope that Mike didn’t inadvertently give them the new landline number, or else the phone harassment shit will start all over again.
He said he was going to cancel the CATscan, he doesn’t want it if it means he has to actually be admitted to the hospital. He thought it was like the colonoscopy, which was an outpatient thing…they did it and he want home. But no, for this he would have had to go through the admitting office, and sign papers allowing himself to be admitted before they do the procedure. He just didn’t take a closer look at the paperwork.
He had to go back to Dr Q’s office today anyway…apparently, another thing he agreed to was an echocardiogram. Since that is supposed to be done in the doctor’s office, and not in the hospital, he figured he’d still let them do that, “just to shut them up”. That only takes about an hour.
But I wonder how much they’ll shut up now that he’s told them NO to the CATscan and being admitted to the hospital. I assume he HAS told them NO by now, the echo appointment was first thing this morning. I know he took that hospital bag full of nasty juice crap that he was supposed to drink, he said he was giving it back to them.
He NEVER would have agreed to a CATscan in the first place, if he’d been told up front that he’d have to be admitted to the hospital. They knew that, they deliberately concealed this information from him. We’re both still steaming just thinking about it.
So I guess that he DIDN’T give out the landline number after all. If he had, no doubt I’d have already gotten a call from Dr. Q, or someone in his office, trying to get me to “talk some sense” into Mike, to get him to change his mind. This is exactly what they did to me last year, when they wanted to do this same surgery and he said NO. It turned into out and out harassment, they were even calling me on my cell phone. I was actually considering legal action, but decided it would be cheaper just to change the phone number.
Besides, changing the number killed two birds with one stone. Mike’s nutcase mother was also calling here a hundred times a day, leaving whiney-assed messages when I wouldn’t pick up. Caller ID is my friend! I wish Caller ID were free on all lines, not just cell phones; everybody should have it. That was a nightmarish time, the phone was ringing off the hook all day, either with one doctor or another, or Mike’s mother. It was a HUGE relief when the number change went through, and I even laughed at the thought of all of these bloodsuckers going batshit crazy over not being able to get hold of me to harass me some more.
Well, I should go downstairs now and put my pants in the dryer. I had already decided I’d wear just the jacket from the new suit, with a white tee and my good black jeans. The pants from the suit are too big, and I need more time to alter them. I had worn those pants to dinner at Fore Street on Mike’s birthday last week. I had unpacked them from my suitcase, but left them out instead of putting them away. Then Pumpkin sat on them, and that resulted in there being orange and white cat hair all over them. So in the wash they had to go.
Remember: light-colored cats shed only on dark surfaces, and dark cats shed only on light-colored surfaces! So if I left the white t-shirt out on the bed, Sabby or one of the other jellicle cats would have sat on it and shed black hair all over it! 
