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My sister is back in the hospital. There are many things that can be said about this, most of which I am not going to say, but I would like to say the following:
1) When I die, I would like for it to be very very fast.
2) In the event that this is not the case, I um. Am pretty sure I will find a way to make it fast. Because...no.
3) Never, ever get written off by UCI Medical Center. Because if you are, they will really write you off and say INCREDIBLY STUPID THINGS TO YOUR MOM like, "Should I hook up the oxygen? Because she's really not going to need it if she's dying." My personal favorite is, "Oh, I thought we told you there's nothing more we can do." OMGWTF. WAY TO GO, ASSHOLES. I HOPE YOU GET SYPHILIS AND DIE.
What my family was hoping for in this particular round of Us vs The Hospital was not, in fact, for them to do *more*. We wanted them to make her stop throwing up. Failing this, we were hoping for another prescription of the Hideously Expensive Yet Awesome Prescription Meds that *did* stop making her throw up. This was five days ago. According to my mother who is, admittedly, not the most reliable of sources, when they send her back home (which I think they are doing tomorrow), it will be *without* the order for TPN. Or whatever the stuff in that bag is. Why? Because, again according to my mom, they would rather not feed her at all than to feed the tumor. Well, you know what, dickweeds? I'm sure that makes sense in some fucked up version of the world, but in the world I am living in where "there's nothing more [you] can do," I would rather not have my sister STARVE TO DEATH IN MY HOUSE, OKAY? You cannot have it both ways! You cannot tell me there is nothing more you can do and then turn around and say you don't want to provide nutritious whatever the fuck to my sister because it is feeding the tumor too. She's already dying, fuckers, at least let her die in relative fucking comfort.
Whatever for you, healthcare industry, you suck.
*
The Evil Company I work for has become even more evil than previously imagined. I've been working part time all this week (30 instead of 40 hours) which is fine and awesome. What is not fine and awesome is that I am working for another five days straight (full time), with a day off, and then back for another day for my interview for The Position That Can't Possibly Be Worth All This BS and followup training on the new e-learning platform for new-hire training for *next year*. Why do I have to do this? Because they are assholes who can't be buggered to remember the Schedule of Crap They Signed Me Up To Do. Oh, and they are closing down the department I am in to make us do another project. Also my current work buddy, the Wrong Wrong Hawaiian Guy, is moving back to Hawaii in a few weeks, which will leave me the sole member of the training department. Right up until they put me with my competitor for The Position That Can't Possibly Be Worth All This BS.
But mostly I am bitter because of the working 10 days straight with only one day off next week. If it were overtime I'd volunteered for, I'd be okay, but it is not. It is evil asshatted scheduling fuckups and I hate them.
Fuck this noise. Evil Company, you suck.
*
Oh, also, my brakes are shot, my eye is twitching, my hair is falling out by the fucking handful, I washed my car yesterday and it rained today, my knee is still fucked up from falling months ago, and my cough has gotten no better.
I hate you, world. You are made of suck.
1) When I die, I would like for it to be very very fast.
2) In the event that this is not the case, I um. Am pretty sure I will find a way to make it fast. Because...no.
3) Never, ever get written off by UCI Medical Center. Because if you are, they will really write you off and say INCREDIBLY STUPID THINGS TO YOUR MOM like, "Should I hook up the oxygen? Because she's really not going to need it if she's dying." My personal favorite is, "Oh, I thought we told you there's nothing more we can do." OMGWTF. WAY TO GO, ASSHOLES. I HOPE YOU GET SYPHILIS AND DIE.
What my family was hoping for in this particular round of Us vs The Hospital was not, in fact, for them to do *more*. We wanted them to make her stop throwing up. Failing this, we were hoping for another prescription of the Hideously Expensive Yet Awesome Prescription Meds that *did* stop making her throw up. This was five days ago. According to my mother who is, admittedly, not the most reliable of sources, when they send her back home (which I think they are doing tomorrow), it will be *without* the order for TPN. Or whatever the stuff in that bag is. Why? Because, again according to my mom, they would rather not feed her at all than to feed the tumor. Well, you know what, dickweeds? I'm sure that makes sense in some fucked up version of the world, but in the world I am living in where "there's nothing more [you] can do," I would rather not have my sister STARVE TO DEATH IN MY HOUSE, OKAY? You cannot have it both ways! You cannot tell me there is nothing more you can do and then turn around and say you don't want to provide nutritious whatever the fuck to my sister because it is feeding the tumor too. She's already dying, fuckers, at least let her die in relative fucking comfort.
Whatever for you, healthcare industry, you suck.
*
The Evil Company I work for has become even more evil than previously imagined. I've been working part time all this week (30 instead of 40 hours) which is fine and awesome. What is not fine and awesome is that I am working for another five days straight (full time), with a day off, and then back for another day for my interview for The Position That Can't Possibly Be Worth All This BS and followup training on the new e-learning platform for new-hire training for *next year*. Why do I have to do this? Because they are assholes who can't be buggered to remember the Schedule of Crap They Signed Me Up To Do. Oh, and they are closing down the department I am in to make us do another project. Also my current work buddy, the Wrong Wrong Hawaiian Guy, is moving back to Hawaii in a few weeks, which will leave me the sole member of the training department. Right up until they put me with my competitor for The Position That Can't Possibly Be Worth All This BS.
But mostly I am bitter because of the working 10 days straight with only one day off next week. If it were overtime I'd volunteered for, I'd be okay, but it is not. It is evil asshatted scheduling fuckups and I hate them.
Fuck this noise. Evil Company, you suck.
*
Oh, also, my brakes are shot, my eye is twitching, my hair is falling out by the fucking handful, I washed my car yesterday and it rained today, my knee is still fucked up from falling months ago, and my cough has gotten no better.
I hate you, world. You are made of suck.