Here's an array of great party items for use whenever you or a friend feel like properly groveling around in depression, anxiety, and general overall misery. Now please get real sad and cry, weep, moan and groan right along with us. Your tears are ALWAYS welcome here!
Diagnosis Roulette Wheel
Judy T's Pity Party Story
Meditation for Depression
Pity Party Mugs
|Pity Party Music
Pity Party Slogans
Pity Party Supplies
Emotional Adjustment (Main Page)
|Exactly How Sick Am I, Anyway?||A Four-Dart Story|
My primary doc has the original girl from hell working for him. She serves only to keep his patients from getting their insurance authorizations in any kind of a timely manner, and she loves to play with our poor infirmed minds by trying to make us think we never asked for one in the first place.
When she finally does manage to secure one for us (we are not allowed to get them ourselves…or believe me…) she seems unable to return our dozen-trillion calls, until finally we somehow catch her, but only to hear that she had actually gotten it a while back and she tried to call us but our phones were "disconnected", or our answering machines "must not have been working", or "no one was home", and now we only have a few days left before the authorization is no longer valid.
What we are dealing with Shelley is the "Evil Medical ROADBLOCK Assistant who happens to be WELL!" We who suffer her inability to feel discomfort need links. Yes, we need links. Ones that we can click onto to find, shall we say, someone willing to take these people out. I know I am not alone in suffering at the hands of these heartless people who are WELL. And I know I am not alone in wanting them put out of my misery. (Can you feel my pain here sister?) THE END.
Did you ever go to the doctors and they say you are doing FINE and the in the next breath they tell you, "Do you know How sick You really Are?! Yipes. First they tell you you're fine and then when you tell them you are going to do something stupid, like go on vacation, and then they hit you with that?
Hi Gang! I have got a story that's worth at least 4 darts. I went into the hospital for a cardiac cath, to look around my heart for narrowed vessels and open up a vessel in my leg. This procedure was through my cardiologist. Well, my rheumy at the time got wind of it, and decided to add to the torture. He ordered a barium swallow to take a look at my esophagus - thought we might as well get it taken care of while I was there.
Ha Ha! I had no idea this was planned until they came to get me. I did not know what it entailed, had no clue how awful I was going to feel afterwards, so if figured "what the hell - get it over with - he's gonna make me do it anyway - damn why did I have to admit I was having trouble swallowing at times! Darn!"
First, the way I had to lay was very uncomfortable, putting pressure on the cath site in my groin. The first round was not so bad - was over pretty quick. Ok - I am ready to go back to my recovery room now. "Whoops," the radiologist says upon his return from looking at the X-rays, "I reread the orders and rheumy wants a video, not stills."
So, I get to swallow that crud a second time. Whoa Nellie - I had cramps, constipation and gut pain for 3 days. I thought I had an obstruction. I was so mad. This could have been done the following week, a quick in and out test so I only had to deal with one thing at a time. (And it would have been nice to be prepared for possible complications.)
I would like to throw at least 4 darts at him. (See Virtual Pity Party Dartboard). I never went back to him. I see his partner now. Ha Ha Ha! Thanks for letting me vent. —Cathy G.
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