Concentrated Crazy

Every new patient I saw today was bat shit crazy. They all had to go to the unit for stabilization; no 23 hour brief observation for those folks. What a welcome back after five days gone. Everything from overdoses to conspiracy theories to believing a stuffed animal was a four month old human baby named 'CJ.' And CJ's mom wanted to fuck me up. I know this because she told me, "I'm going to fuck you up." I believed her, but I was just too tired to be all that afraid. She never did, though. All this after our 12 hour car ride home yesterday. And that's no thanks to Birmingham, AL. I hate Birmingham.

Alas, though, we are home. I missed this. My stuff. My space. My expensive bed. My retarded dogs. It's beautiful. Of course I'm sick now because the trip kicked my ass, but I'm hopeful the pain killer, zyrtec, and mucinex-D does some sweet stuff to me tonight. I don't have time to be sick. I'm always behind as it is. Uggh. With that, the house is a disaster, though I did vacuum tonight and changed the air filter. We need to further clean, do laundry, and grocery shop. Most of that probably won't happen until this weekend, which is going to make dressing for work pretty interesting. Oh well. Speaking of weekend, this one coming up is my last with Joe for a bit. He's supposed to go back to Ranger School the 16th, and of course I work that weekend. The only reason he may not go back to school is because there is something wrong with his blood. I've written about this before and how an internist I know was helping advise us. Thank God for that guy because we would not have continued to push for labs that showed the platelet count remains low after several months. Also, the little bitch Physician Assistant at Joe's med station wouldn't have had the opportunity to dick us around. He basically told Joe that I was just pushing for stuff to happen and that anybody (the internist) can "arm chair quarter back." He then yanked Joe around for a few days and wouldn't really tell him anything except that the latest labs weren't ready. Well. In the end Lil' Bitch got Joe referred out to a hematologist. I hear that doesn't typically happen when NOTHING IS WRONG AND A WIFE IS JUST PLAYING PUPPET MASTER. As Stimpy once said, "I am SURROUNDED by EEEEDIOTS." Whatever it is I just hope it's not "bad wrong." I looked up the doctor who Joe is being referred out to...and he's also an oncologist. I'm just going to assume that the two usually go hand in hand - blood and cancer. This thing has worried me more than I care to admit and over the course of several months now. Hopefully we'll get some answers soon and this doctor will actually be candid with us and demonstrate an appropriate bed side manner. Please. My nerves are shot. I really don't want to start carrying around a CJ...