My hands are frozen

I did discover that there is a Dunkin Donuts not too far from here. I harbor the belief that it is ensconced with the Baskin Robbins. Since my office is literally under 70 degrees, I may run out and get a coffee. If the rain stops. And if I don't cave and get a cappucino blast instead.

So, I have now declared that I am not a big fan of the medical community. Those of you who realize my dad is, in fact, a part of that community may be surprised. But here's the thing. Since my dad was a doctor and we lived in a small town, when I did need medical stuff, it was my dad's friends who were doing it. This could have made things awkward once I got into college and whatnot, but luckily, we don't believe in doctors, so I had no embarrassing yearly check-ups. Now all the priveledged treatment has gone out the window. And I now feel the need to write a letter to all doctors in general about their treatment. Because I know that you are busy and I know that you have patients lined up after me, but I also know that I got up at 7 on my day off to rush into the city because my health problems are making my life miserable. I also know that while you may have gone to medical school and can look at an abdominal ultrasound and tell which blurry thing is a liver or a kidney, I am the one who puts up with my symptoms and my body everyday and you should pull your head out of your ass and listen to what my intuition is telling me. Then, if you still agree with your original diagnosis, which is entirely a possibility, you should talk to me about what it means and what it doesn't, rather than pushing me out of your examining room like you don't have time for me. Again, I know that you are busy. But I am a person and I am unhappy and I am paying for the insurance that is paying your bills. So suck it up and develop some customer service. And now, the more research I do, the more questions I have. Is it possible that every single thing wrong with me currently has to do with chronic stress and my body's inability to deal with it? If my doctor is correct in his diagnosis, then I have three seperate, virtually untreatable diseases. You can treat the symptoms, but not the diseases themselves. Why would these all start about the same time, if not for the fact that they are caused by stress? Sigh. I'll just go home and ask my dad who'll ask his friend. I would just call my doctor, but they charge for phone questions and money is one source of stress in my life.

I did have a lovely conversation with my friend Amy this weekend that reminded me how lucky I am. As much as I might occasionally fade into the background and as often as some of my "friends" have forgotten about me, I know that there will always be a few people who are more devoted and kinder and think more of me than I can ever deserve. The fact is I have three people who would do almost anything for me and who would drop everything to be with me if I needed them. And the females so nicely balance each other out. One is fairly religious and so I can talk about faith-issues with her. The other is bawdy and experienced and always ready to give advice on physical matters. Sigh. Now if only I didn't live miles and miles away from both of them...

Also, I've decided that my office only THOUGHT we escaped 6/6/06. But I got cut right before teh end of the day (and getting sliced by glass that is falling from the smallest height is just bizarre)AND my coworker had that very morning dropped a big metal rod onto her toe, nearly breaking it. I blame it ALL on the day...