The Rage
Warning: Bad language and rambling madness, so if you don't like those things don't read it. Mama's boy.
I've been sick about a week, which is enough in itself to piss me off. I should also note due to a terrible cough I've also not had a cigarette in almost 6 days. SIX. DAYS!!!! I don't feel good, I'm going through withdrawals, therefore, I have a really short fuse to what can be an explosive temper. I try to reign in my temper as much as I can, because I really like being sweet to people and making them laugh and smile.
But I am so FUCKING MAD right now.
I went to Doctor's Care, where they told me I owed $30.00 that was past due, for something my insurance didn't cover, and that I'd have to pay that, plus the $30.00 co-pay before they could agree to see me. I just sighed inwardly and handed over my debit card, because the lady was just doing her job and frankly, I was too tired to ask what my fucking insurance didn't cover. But, I'd already bought about $25 worth of refilled prescriptions and over-the-counter medicine to help me try to get better and sleep, so at this point I'm at $85.
Maybe that's not a lot of money to some people, but it would pay my power bill. And I need power! I'm not being extravagent over here, right?
The doc tells me I've got bronchitis, an ear infection, and a sinus infection. She gives me two shots, a breathing treatment, and calls in 4 prescriptions. FOUR! But, I don't panic. Much. I just picked up my prescriptions at the pharmacy, and she's ringing them up and I've got this sick feeling in my stomach because.. 4. I mean, holy shit, yeah I'm sick but I hate pills and do I really *NEED* all this crap? However, they're all ringing up around $3-$5 dollars each so I figure well, it's not so bad.
Then she gets to one that's $50.00. So I say "$50? What's that for?" and she said "That's your antibiotic."
Well, of fucking COURSE it is, since that's the only one I fucking really NEED.
So, I tell her I was under the impression that the max my prescriptions would be was $30.00. She goes into this lecture I hardly heard due to the ringing in my ears ($50 DOLLARS?!) but the only thing I hear is something like "and your insurance company would rather not pay that so ..."
Oh, you'd rather not? I'd rather not, either, JACKHOLES!
Not only this, and this next part is personal so skip ahead if you're weak, but the antibiotic shot the doc gave me at Doctor's Care has given me an extremely painful yeast infection. I don't mean itchy, I mean PAIN-FUL. As in, full of pain. I'm standing there squeezing the box of ointment and she asks "Do you want to get that, too?" I say yes, and the total comes to $77.
All I could say was "Jesus *Christ*"
As in.. Jesus Christ, please come down to earth and SMITE my fucking insurance company, and the fucking doctor who gave me a $50 fucking prescription when all the other doctors give me antibiotics that are usually around $5 bucks. Don't you KNOW that if we're going to a fucking DOC IN A FUCKING BOX that we can't AFFORD a REAL doctor, and therefore can't really fucking AFFORD a FIFTY FUCKING DOLLAR FUCKING ANTIBIOTIC?!
That shit better clean my fucking house and give me orgasms when I take it. It better wash my fucking car and write letters to my credit card company explaining exactly why they won't be getting any money from me this month. I'd better fucking wake up in the morning and have my antibiotics bring me breakfast in my mother fucking bed, is what I'm saying.
So, I pay the pharmacy, and as I leave she says "I hope you feel better."
Yeah.. me too. Right now I feel sicker than before I went. I started to tell her I wasn't going to fill the scrip and then call doc in a box and tell them "Hi, are you fucking CRAZY?! Write me a scrip that's not a fucking ha-ha-funny-joke!!!" But I didn't, because my cootch fucking HURTS like a bitch, I'm hungover from taking enough NyQuil to put down a horse so I could sleep through the coughing, I'm coughing so long and hard I almost pee my pants at least once an hour, my whole body aches, my head hurts, and good-goddamn if I just can't find it in me to be fucking CHEERFUL.
Thus ends my rant.
My antibiotic should have written this for me.
(and of course, the sweet southern voice inside me is just telling me that I'm lucky I have a job, and can even pay for this, even if it means I get behind on some things, because SOME people can't AFFORD the doctor, or have a job with insurance, or have a car and a house. shut up, voice. I hate you)
posted by Cookie @ Tuesday, October 17, 2006
4 Comments:
You know what's worse than taxes?
What's worse than tax is insurance.
You got to have some insurance.
They shouldn't even call it insurance.
They just should call it ''in case shit.''
l give a company some money
in case shit happens.
Now, if shit don't happen,
shouldn't l get my money back?
That's right, man, you better have
some medical insurance, or you gonna die.
That's right, everybody.
You got to eat right and exercise.
No, you don't, you need some coverage.
Coverage will save your life.
That's right, we all gonna die,
but at least if you got some coverage...
you will die on a mattress.
That's right. When l was a kid,
we didn't have no insurance.
We didn't have a damn thing.
You had to be damn near dead
to see the doctor.
You had to be way past Robitussin.
That's all we had
when l was a kid: Robitussin.
No matter what you got,
Robitussin better handle it.
-''Daddy, l got asthma.''
-''Robitussin.''
-''l got cancer.''
-''Robitussin.''
l broke my leg,
Daddy poured Robitussin on it.
''Yeah, boy, let that 'tussin get in there.
''Yeah, boy, let that 'tussin
get on down to the bone.
''The 'tussin ought to straighten out
the bone. lt's good.
''lf you run out of 'tussin, put some water
in the jar, shake it up, more 'tussin.
''More 'tussin!''
Y'all like doctors 'cause they don't cure shit.
They don't cure nothing.
Same diseases been hanging out
since l was a kid, man.
What's the last shit a doctor cured? Polio.
You know how long ago polio was?
That's like the first season of Lucy.
Shit, Fred had an Afro with finger waves!
Have you ever met anybody with polio?
Anybody feel a little 'poly around you?
No. That's right, they don't cure shit.
The same diseases been hanging out
since l was a kid:
AlDS, sickle cell, tuberculosis, cancer,
Jerry's kids still limping around.
l've been watching
the Jerry Lewis Telethon...
for probably about or years now.
Not one stitch of progress whatsoever.
Come on, man. Lie to me, Jerry!
What the fuck you doing, Jerry?
Put a stick in the kid's back,
prop him up or some shit!
Come on, call Steven Spielberg.
Get some special effects on this shit!
Get George Lucas on the case!
CGl, motherfucker!
What the fuck!
Tie some string around him,
make a cripple puppet or some shit.
Lie to me!
Where the fuck's the money going?
What, to keep Jerry's hair black?
Where's the money going? Think about it.
Frank Sinatra: dead. Dean Martin: dead.
Sammy Davis: dead.
Jerry Lewis got a full head of black hair.
And if you ain't gonna cure the disease,
cut the kids a check!
That's right, you know the little boy who's
getting ready to die? Get him a table dance.
Get him a table dance, for Christ's sake!
l'm sure the Make-A-Wish people
hear that request every now and then.
Get the boy a table dance.
''What do you want, Jimmy? You're dying.
Wanna meet Jim Carrey?''
''No, l want some big titties in my face.
''lt's my last wish, come on.''
That's right, man.
That's right, we got AlDS out there.
You think they're gonna cure AlDS?
No, they can't even cure athlete's foot.
They ain't curing AlDS.
Shit, they ain't never curing AlDS.
Don't even think about that shit.
They ain't curing it,
'cause there ain't no money in the cure.
The money's in the medicine.
That's how you get paid, on the comeback.
That's how a drug dealer makes his money,
on the comeback.
That's all the government is:
a bunch of motherfucking drug dealers,
on the comeback.
They ain't curing no AlDS.
That's all it is.
You think they're gonna cure AlDS?
They're still mad at all the money
they lost on polio!
Curing AlDS? Shit, that's like Cadillac
making a car that lasts for years.
And you know they can do it...
but they ain't gonna do nothing
that fucking dumb.
Shit, they got metal on the space shuttle
that can go around the moon...
and withstand temperatures
of up to degrees.
You mean to tell me you don't think
they can make an Eldorado...
where the fucking bumper don't fall off?
They can, but they won't.
So what they will do with AlDS is the
same thing they do with everything else.
They will figure out a way
for you to live with it.
They don't cure shit, they just patch it up.
Get you to the next stop,
so they can get more of your money.
They ain't gonna cure it.
Hopefully, in our lifetime,
you're gonna see somebody go:
''Yo, man, you weren't at work yesterday.
What's up?''
''My AlDS is acting up.
''You know, when the weather get like this,
my AlDS just pop up.
''But l took some Robitussin. l'm fine now!''
Yeast infection > burned cornea *any* day of the week. I feel for you.
*BIGHUGS*
my we're testy today....
*snkkt* you said cootch.
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