The Birds And The Cats

A few weeks ago, on a Wednesday night, BF picked me up from work and we went straight to dinner. We got home around 8:30. We walked into the kitchen to find the huge bowl of fruit on the floor, along with a lot of photos that used to hang on the refrigerator.

As I stood there trying to process what had gone awry, something near the ceiling fluttered. It was a bird. I completely freaked out and ran into the spare bedroom only to find another bird. At this point I was in hysterics. BF was trying to calm me down and Mary Ann and Ginger were doing what they had been doing all day--trying to catch those damn birds. My downstairs neighbors told me the festivities began shortly after I had left for work, so the natural enemies had been at it for about 12 hours—give or take.

BF finally got the birds into the spare bedroom and got them out the window.

There was bird poop everywhere.

I came home the following day to find more bird poop and a broken candy dish. I looked and looked, but could find no bird.

Sunday evening, as I was sweeping under my bed, I swept out a--sock??? Oh no, fuck me. A dead bird. I had been sleeping over a dead bird for three nights. I screamed. And I screamed. I could not stop screaming. I really wanted to stop screaming, but I could not. Thankfully, the downstairs neighbors were not home.

I now know why they cover dead bodies. No one really wants to look at a dead body. I covered the little thing up with a paper towel. I finally got the courage to sweep him up. I felt so sorry for that bird. I knew it had died a horrible, torturous death, shitting itself all the while. Poor fucking thing.

Fast forward to last Saturday as I'm cleaning the house for girls' night. BF was not feeling well and he was lying in bed. I was on the phone talking to one of the girls and went to pick up a--cat toy??? Oh no, fuck me, again. Another dead bird. I flipped out, screamed bloody murder, and nearly gave BF a fucking heart attack. The friend on the phone was also freaking out. It's a dead bird. I have to go. I'll tell you about it when you get here.

BF scooped up the poor murdered bird and closed the chimney flue.

Of all the chimneys to come down, those poor bastards definitely picked the wrong one.

Health Care

I have laid out a lot of cash for health care lately, and it really sucks.

It started last March when I cracked a tooth. I put off taking care of it for a few months because it only hurt when I hit it just right, sending a shooting pain through my head.

The day I was supposed to have the tooth crowned, my dentist and his slutty assistant pissed me off so bad that I fired them, asked for my records and walked out the door. I was just short of telling them both to kiss my ass. It's for the best. I didn't have a lot of faith in that dentist. When I went in for my cleanings, he mostly liked to talk about drinking to excess and where to find the cheapest wine. Both fine things, but not what you really want to hear from your medical personnel.

So, I go to another dentist who refers me to an endodontist. I didn't even know WTF an endodontist was until now. Now, I know very well what an endodontist is, because he has all my money.

To make a very long and very sad story short, I have spent $895 out of pocket between the dentist and the endodontist and my fucking tooth still hurts. So, I go back to the dentist who tells me to go back to the endodontist. Now I get to see that mother fucker again and give him some more money, just to have him tell me it's the tooth behind the crown, and it also needs a root canal and crown. What a fucking racket.

I have also spent money going to my GP and my chiropractor. I always have my annual physical in January. When I went to see my GP I told her about a lump I had found in my right breast and she ordered a mammogram and an ultrasound. Everything is fine, thank God. I was sweating it and I know that everyone that was in the waiting room with me did not get the same results. God help them and their families. Today I got a bill for $177.

On to the crazy lump that has reappeared behind my left ear. Last month, as I was eating dinner with Boyfriend on a Friday night, I felt a pain behind my ear and touched it to find a huge and growing lump. I could actually feel the lump growing. By Saturday night I was reduced to a weeping mess and was thisclose to going to the emergency room. I toughed it out until Monday morning and got into see my dermatologist. I thought it was a cyst that he would either inject with a steroid or lance. No such luck. He did not think it was a cyst and prescribed antibiotics for an "infected gland." Great. Well, I woke up on Thursday morning with the same thing and am back on antibiotics with an upcoming appointment with yet another doctor. Of course by the time of the appointment the lump will be gone and God knows how much that appointment will cost.

I also just spent $80 on an intestinal cleanse (well, actually, $211—buy two get one half price) and here's why. I was talking with my chiropractor about his son's lack of appetite and said something to the effect that one's body would crave what it needs and his son would eat what he needed to when he needed to.

Chiro: Unless your digestive system is overrun by yeast, in which case all you will crave is alcohol and sugar.

Me: I totally have that.

Chiro: Do this test. When you wake up in the morning, before you put anything in your mouth or brush your teeth, spit into a clear glass of water. If your saliva dissipates over the surface of the water after a few minutes, you're good. If your saliva forms long strings which hang through the water, your system is yeast infected and you need to do a cleanse.

I’ve known that I need to do a digestive cleanse for quite a while now, but I don’t want to. But, I got the seven-day cleanse and plan on starting it this-coming Thursday. No alcohol, no sugar, no processed anything for seven days. How the fuck am I going to survive that?

I've spent a hell of a lot more money than I want to on health care as of late and there is no end in sight. And I'm healthy. How do people who are really sick afford it? What about all the old people who need medication? What about all the diabetics who will not make it without their insulin? What about all the cancer patients? How much radiation cost? How much does a mastectomy cost? How much for chemo? What about all the other horrible diseases plaguing people? How much does a month’s supply of blood pressure medicine cost? What about all the people (like my two brothers) walking around with their blood pressure through the roof because they don't have insurance nor money? What about these people?

I also have a script for physical therapy for my left leg that I've been ignoring and ever since we moved into our ergonomically correct workspaces, my right shoulder has been hurting to the point that I have limited my work-out routine.

I guess I should count my blessings, whip out the Visa, and shut the fuck up.