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jan 13 2015
annual update; still aging

Jan 13 2014
alive2014

april 26 2010
not the entry i wanted to write

nov 13 2009
polar extremes

sep 21 2009
cure for angst is dictatorship

save me feb 20 2001 - 11.54 am

that was a hiatus and a half. so now, a long entry to make up for it.

yesterday was full of extreme hellishness. i really hated yesterday.

my girlfriend socks called into work sick yesterday, and went to a walk-in clinic to find out why she's been feeling so damn pukey lately. he thought that she might have an ulcer and sent her off to the lab to get some bloodwork done.

socks hates bloodwork.

getting blood taken was #1 on my Biggest Fears list, along with a gyno exam and rectal interference, but i bit the bullet earlier this year and didn't run away when i needed a blood test, only to find that it wasn't so bad.

socks has had blood taken many times, all to show inconclusive results, so i guess if you go through something you hate for nothing many many times, you get just a little anxious about it.

so socks came home to get me, and we went off to the lab. sitting in the waiting room, she started muttering "i change my mind, i change my mind, i change my mind!" a nun (!!!) took her blood, about 7 vials, and i laughed nervously as i watched socks writhe in the agony of the experience. she went woozy in the chair after the needle was removed, but seemed ok as we made our way out.

we sat down in the waiting room chairs and she seemed like she was passing out. i said "you can't sleep here!" and she agreed, mumbling that she wanted a cab to take her home, and she wanted to go to bed. she dropped things on the floor, and as i was gathering them up, she got up and started walking out of the clinic.

BAM! as she reached the door, she collapsed against a woman at the reception desk and onto the floor. i rushed over - she was out, but her eyes were open (creepy.as.hell). the blur of confusion swirled the voices, hands, arms, and i tried my best to pull her out of this current. she was so heavy in her absolute limpness; it's not like lifting someone who's hurt and is exerting some minimal effort to take some of the weight off your hands. this was 125 lbs of dead weight that i was trying to lift off the ground.

she came to, and the little nun (who took charge) was walking her to a room to lie down. once there, BAM! she collapsed again. we managed to lift her onto the bench, and the voices were the nun talking to her, another nurse/woman flapping a piece of paper in her face (attempting to fan her), and a large eastern european woman freaking out. grr.

this was the perfect environment for socks to have a panic attack. so she did.

and OF COURSE it was just the right time for socks' period to start, so she began having cramps. womb-gutting cramps. add some more freaking out.

i was laughing through most of this because i was freaking out myself, and unfortunately picked the most insensitive display of behaviour to express this. luckily, it was confused and panicked enough to NOT seem like i thought this was actually hilarious. when socks started to cry from the pain, i decided i could let go as well, and i started to cry. then they called an ambulance.

the large bleach-blond russian whale's voice carried through the hall. "if she says she al-wayz gets deezy when she has da bludwork, den she needz to tell uss dat shee duz dat..." i waited for the opportunity to tell her to shut the fuck up and get out of the room. unfortunately, she did most of her ranting from the hall and elsewhere in the office.

when the pain and panic had subsided, the cutest paramedic showed up. i know why heterosexual women are suckers for these professional rescuers, like firemen and cops - the uniform accenting the hardbody, maintained through stress-relieving bench presses; the gentle manner of "i'm here to help, ma'am"; the sensitive concern and most of all, calm knowledge that cuts through the bullshit of all the confusion just experienced. he made ME feel a whole lot better, if not socks....

after everything was sorted out and socks was able to stand up, the blond whale came back for her two cents. she started out with "iz shee okay?" and i said "yes. thank you." and then again with the "shee shood say if shee haz dat..." to which i said "well, i have never been with her any other time so i didn't know, and when you're having a PANIC attack, you're not going to be able to say that something is wrong!..." and the cute paramedic ducked out with "uhh, i'll let you two deal with this..."

and then we left.

all i can say is, thank god for nuns. she was the only one who acted remotely in control, and genuinely concerned. the rest of them were as useless as dirt.

i'll whine about the rest of the day later.

last time***next time