Archive for the ‘complain complain’ category

More whining

December 4, 2008

Woke up to find the migraine is still hanging in there. And I have a storytime. I hate trying to sing and read stories and act cheerful when I have a migraine. Plus, you have to be alert, because there’s an audience of 30 kids under 5 and I really need to pay attention to what they’re up to.

But at least they have teachers or parents with them. How do teachers with migraines manage to be responsible for 30 kids every day? I never could have had a job like that. Thinking about it now, I don’t even know how I managed to be a parent. No wonder my daughter is a better cook than me, I was always either at work or lying in a dark room, how else was she going to eat? (sob)

And it’s foggy today, and I hate the fog. (But if it was a beautiful, sunny day, would I be moaning that my head hurts too much to enjoy it?)

I guess I’m all whined out. Thinking about being a migraineous parent reminds me of a day when my daughter was about six. I had a migraine. One of her friends had been at our house all day long. I was lying on the couch in the living room and every time they roared through I would grasp my head and beg them to be quiet. Towards dinner time they came and asked me if the friend could stay the night.

I took the cloth off my eyes and looked at the friend. “What? All day long, all I’ve done is lay on the couch and tell you to be quiet, and now you want to spend the night? Are you crazy?” The friend put her hands on her hips and said, “Look, it’s the same thing at my house. At least here I have a friend to play with.”

So I learned: a parent lying in the living room with a washcloth over her face is just a piece of furniture, and lots of moms get headaches. And over the years I ate many good meals (their specialty was breakfast) prepared by these two girls.

Glass Pineapple Can’t Stop Complaining

July 20, 2008

I went to see the ENT on Thursday and told him I couldn’t breathe through my nose and one side of my face hurt. He said I might have an infection and gave me more antibiotics. I do feel a little better today (Sunday), but basically I have been going to work every day and then coming home and going straight to bed. The antibiotic is Avelox. It makes me queasy and shaky. Let’s see, any more complaints?

Yes! The doctor said, take these antibiotics and then I want to see you again in two weeks. But when I dutifully took my piece of paper up to the check-out desk, the check-out woman was on the phone, grilling someone about something they were supposed to send to her. I stood there for a while, then she motioned for the paper. She then waved me away and whispered, “Call if you need us.” I said, (not whispering, since I wanted her to hear me over the person on the phone,) “I’m supposed to come back in two weeks.”

Still on the phone, she looked over the paper, and shook her head. But if I wasn’t going to come back in two weeks, I wanted to see the doctor again immediately, because that brought up a lot of questions I hadn’t thought to ask, like: Will I ever be able to breathe again? If I’m still in pain 6 months from now, is that normal? So I was stubborn. “The doctor said he wanted to see me in two weeks.”

She continued her phone conversation, then finally ended it with the words, “All right, I’ll tell my husband.” That doesn’t sound very work-related to me. Even if she were married to one of the doctors, I think she’d call him Dr. whatever during a business call. Anyway, then she could talk to me and she said, “There’s no indication here that the doctor wants to see you again.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just repeated, “The doctor said I should come back in two weeks.” She said, “Sometimes that happens in the course of conversation…”

Sometimes what happens, doctors say stuff they don’t mean? What? Or is See Me In Two Weeks code for This Patient is a Pain Get Rid of Her? The woman looked at me, I looked at her. I felt like a dummy, but I couldn’t think of any other way to put it, so I said for the fourth time, “He said he wanted to see me in two weeks.”

“Well,” she said, “if you feel a need to see the doctor, of course I will make an appointment for you.” Okay, I get it. So long as I admit that seeing the doctor is just some silly notion of my own, not a serious idea of the doctor’s, I’ll be allowed to return. Fine. Whatever works. So on July 29 at 8:30am, just for a lark, I’ll be back.