So, that was the quickest trip down the Lyrica path that I think anyone’s ever taken.
Little adverse reaction, there.
Fortunately, I didn’t hurt anyone, including myself.
But I came damned close to reaching through the phone and ripping out the throat of a client, which is generally frowned upon, according to the company handbook.
It seems so incongruous. Lyrica is such a pretty, fluid name. Savella wasn’t a bad name, either, come to that. Neither should have done such ugly things to me.
Anyway, I have to build back up to my old dosage of Neurontin, which is an ugly name, but all it ever did was make me stupid. Stupid and harmless I can handle.
I also took a needless trip to the endocrinologist, in that the lab sent her the results from the rheumatologist, who is seriously hot, tall, and Irish, so I tend to pay closer attention to him than to my short, North African, female endocrinologist, and, oh, sorry, got sidetracked by the tall Irishness yet again.
Lab fucked up.
I had to go get stuck again, and I can see the endocrinologist in a couple of weeks, by which time the lab should have figured out that I am not some craycray maso chick who likes getting stuck for shits ‘n’ giggles.
I only do it ‘cos my various and sundry doctors are craycray sado chicks (and, in the case of Tall Hot Irish, pricks).
Speaking of getting stuck, my epidural got postponed until further notice, on account of a drug recall.
What the blue fuckity-fuck, as my grandfather never said, partly because he didn’t use that kind of language, but mostly because he was colorblind.
Also, I would like to thank anyone and everyone who has contributed to my not getting evicted (yes, That Man of Mine is a big fat loser temporarily unemployed at the moment) and also the kind soul who donated to me a packet of much unnecessary but incredibly delicious Candy Corn Oreos, and whose brilliant idea was that, I would very much like to know.
I believe I will just say “fuck it” and do a meme next week. However, I did write this whole post on my Android (thank you again, GolfBrother), and I think that ought to count for something.
drinking: ice water
listening to: Pat Benatar, Wuthering Heights
my vote: without getting all political, i ain’t voting for anyone with a vendetta against muppets