So today, I took the thing on my foot to the ER.

Young^[1] Doctor Jenssen took a look at my foot and the funny area thereupon. Did an ultrasound of it. Consulted with a considerably more decisive colleague.

“You know, I think I will consult with a colleague about the best course of action. “

Comes back with a tough looking Asian chick, who takes one look at my errant food and says “Don’t cut it.”

He then has to pretend not to be thrown off by how quick and decisive that was and kind of roll with it.

“A-hah, well, I guess I will consider this further… ” he says as he leads her away again.

I must admit, I found that pretty funny.

And I am sympathetic to both sides. I can easily see myself as the somewhat nervous young doctor presented with a case that doesn’t quite fit anything he learned about in school who needs a consultation and/or confidence boost from a colleague.

And I can definitely imagine myself as the person who bluntly, correctly, and immediately gives the right answer but who might need to consider how to maintain a professional atmosphere in the future.

Like her, I wouldn’t WANT to have to slow down and play along, but I WOULD.

The end result of my time in the ER was….. nothing, technically. Young Docter Jenssen ended up going with his colleague and doing no intervention at all.

But I am still glad I went. Especially because the waiting room was almost empty and so I got through the preliminary stages of admitting super fast.

I must admit, I was a little disappointed that nothing (in a sense) happened. I think I grasp why doctors invented placebos now. When you go to your local medicine man with a painful problem, you kind of want there to be an intervention of some sort that is equal in power to the pain and/or scariness of the problem.

It’s primitive, but then again, so are we.

The doctor did tell me I need to see my GP ASAP. I told him that my GP is on vacation. He reminded me that when doctors go on vacation, they usually have someone sub for them with their patients.

Well derp goes the fox. I knew that!

He also wants me to see a podiatrist. And he is going to refer me to a wound care specialist. The in-house one, I think, rather than the clinic across the street.

If so. I hope that it’s the same one who helped me with the infection on my leg. She was super nice and seemed like a pretty cool chick.

And I don’t call a woman a chick lightly. It’s an earned title. You have to meet a minimum coolness standard to be a chick in my book.

It is most definition not a term of derision when it is coming from me.

More after the break.

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Medicine Part Deux

I also peed in a cup for science.

In other words, I got lab work done. Went to the LifeLabs near 3 Road and Ackroyd.

Sadness : even just walking from the parking lot in the back to the elevator made me feel so tired I felt sick to my stomach.

That’s just not right. Really have to talk to my GP about that. Again.

When I got to the second floor lab, the line was pretty long. I sighed and joined it. Then like six more people showed up and joined the line behind me.

I went from being at the end of the line to being in the middle. Weird.

I guess that, relatively speaking, the lineup when I showed up was not THAT long.

Eventually got to the front. Handed my form in to the receptionist. She asks a few questions then tells me the rest will be handled “on the other side”.

Well, there’s three desks and a person behind each, and I was at the right hand position, so I went to the person at the left hand position.

Only to have all three of them impatiently tell me it was the guy in the middle position who would be handling things for me.

Look, don’t yell at me because of your crappy directions. You said the other side, logically, that meant the opposite side.

So fuck you, assholes. And take your negative energy back. I’m full up.

After that, though, it was simple enough. The lab req was just for two urine tests so allI had to do was pee in the bottle and stick it in the lab fridge and I was out of there.

Some gal named Pam

Laura Ze Pam, to be specific, and her buddy Al Prazolam.

During therapy today, I was talking about my social anxiety and how it cut me off from others because it filled my head with so much panic when dealing with the public that there was precious little room left to deal with what was going on OUTSIDE my head.

By design, I think. After all, as horrible as the panic is, it does reduce the social stimulation. So it might well be a VERY maladaptive defense mechanism.

Anyhow, I took this opportunity to broach the idea of him giving me a small amount of one of those fast acting anti-anxiety meds they give out like candy in the States.

He agreed, so now I have 5 Alprazolam and 5 Lorezepam to try out.

He gave me 5 of each so I could figure out which one worked better for me.

The idea is that if one of these pills can knock out my anxiety for a while, I can have some positive social experiences without the anxiety interfering and start to overwrite those bad tapes from my childhood.

That’s the theory, anyhow. I really hope it works.

Hell, it would be nice just to have a vacation from the fucking anxiety once in a while.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.