I think you need to relax

And with these words, fury is born.



Yes, kiddies, there's yet another doctor who canceled on me at the last minute. My yearly screening due to PCOS came and went, I put it off, rescheduled, canceled and then rescheduled. Yesterday was supposed to be it. Except my office calls and tells me they just called. To cancel. On me. Again.



FIVE BLOCKS FROM THEIR OFFICE. I'M WALKING THERE. IT'S OF NO USE. THEY CANCELED. AGAIN. FUCK OFF, ET TU?



I call, after rooting my legs into the concrete because--let's face it--I do nothing lately except run to hurry up to wait then sprint to stand still. Wasteful energy expenditures can go kiss my Irish ass. I take off half an afternoon due to the typical HMO bullshit--I can't get another doctor because they're "out-of-network" which means $375 per appointment--and then I go to reschedule. I try to explain in a broken, frazzled tone that my schedule is at the mercy of the hirings and firings at my job and we've been downsized (fuckin hate that word) from an office of 14 to about 5. I'm stammering, cold, and utterly lost at this point. And her response?



"This is none of my business, but I think you need to relax."



And with that, CuChulainn erupts.



"RELAX??? YOU TELL ME I HAVE TO HAVE THIS TEST NO MATTER WHAT, I LOSE HALF A DAY OF WORK, AND ALL I NEED IS TO RELAX?? I'M DOING THE WORK OF FOUR PEOPLE PLUS MYSELF, THERE'S NO FAMILY OR SUPPORT SYSTEM TO CALM ME DOWN OR EVEN HELP ME WHEN I GET SICK, TIRED, OR FRENZIED AND I JUST NEED TO RELAX? YOU'VE GOT A CUSHY RECEPTIONIST JOB, A HUMONGOUS DIAMOND, A HOUSE, A CAR AND A HUSBAND TO FUCK [that was co-opted from RD] AND I JUST NEED TO RELAX??? WHAT THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET AN OUNCE OF UNDERSTANDING ?? GET SHOT? STABBED? MURDERED?"



***enter awkward 'oops i said the wrong thing' silence***



"Um, we can put you in for next week, same time. We can also give you priority."



"FINE," I growl into the phone.



My next appointment is 6 pm, next Wednesday. I'm polishing my halo so nothing seems wrong. If someone wants to fuck with me, I fuck them back until they're dead.



Women like this need a solid smack in the mouth. Oh, wait. Wrong meeting. That's right--she doesn't know I'm not a princess. I actually do things like work, and play sports, and get my hands dirty. I don't fear breaking nails or sweating a bit. I also don't have the fantasy that someone's going to save me because I'm feeling pissy or bloated or PMS-y. I was never allowed that fantasy in my life EVER and that's why she deserves to be shoved face first down a long flight of stairs.



Next week--same Bat time, same Bat channel. I'm going batty.