commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Spent several hours on Sunday collecting names and phone numbers and everything of about 10 different psychiatrists sorted by increasing distance from home (since there are only 2 covered by my insurance here in my university's entire city, despite it being the 3rd biggest in the state). Was planning to call as many as it took this morning to hopefully find somebody who could fit me in on Thursday to tack on an anxiety disorder diagnosis and get some horse tranquilizers to maybe get me through the rest of the semester without, you know, having a panic attack so bad (or continuing on this unbreakable series of them) that I kill myself.

But then I realized. If I don't get my lupus/fibro/whatever diagnosis legitimized by a rheumatologist before I get psych diagnoses, it will be impossible for me to find a doctor who will look twice at any organic cause of my issues ever again. Especially because I don't have a very elevated ANA and need to find somebody who will try treating me based on mostly self-reported symptoms (you'd think the malar rash would be sufficient, but since I've figured out my triggers for that, I only have two or three bad ones a year, and what are the chances of making it in to a rheumy on one of those pairs of days?).



commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Tonight's Psych, wherein Gus, Shawn, and Lassiter go on a road trip because Lassiter insisted that some friend of his hire them is pinging all my Gus/Shawn/Lassiter bells. Just in the setup. I'm hoping it will deliver. I also need a name for that pairing trio. I like the ring of Shasster, but the only difference between meshing Shawn and Lassiter (even though the accepted is Shassie and not Shassiter) and Shawn, Lassie, and Guster is the one I, so people could mistake it.

OMG, IT'S SHAGSTER. DONE. The Sha, the G-s, and the Ter. Now that it has a cool name, you must write more of it, fandom.

In other news, is it bad if I maybe have a tiny crush on the Target pharmacist? Not a crush so much as an appreciation that she's well-educated and kind of pretty and young and tall and really really nice and I would date that.
commotiocordis: (carmen)
Harry Potter's Daniel Radcliffe gives major donation to The Trevor Project

The Trevor Project is "the only nationwide, around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) youth", among other related services.

I still say this manchild is a gay. Not that being an ally means you're a homo, obvs, but because he sort of just feels like it to me. Idk. Claiming to like only "older women", and he's so polite, stuff like that. Maybe just because he's cute with guys in my head.

I'm interested to know what made him choose this organization to donate to. I hope it's not because he has a friend or somesuch who has benefited from such services, because that is sad. Also sad is that he will probably feel the need (or his publicist will) to make several high-profile appearances with a "female acquaintance" to temporarily stop rumors that he is gay.

Back from the DMV--totally forgot I needed to renew my license (didn't actually run out until September 19th, but I'm fairly sure I won't be back on a weekday before then and idk if I can renew it in a different county). Ran around all morning trying to find appropriate proof of residence. My name's not on any of the utility bills or other government documents with my parents' address. They say you can just bring one of the parents' items, but that you might need a signed statement or something as well (saying what they don't specify, natch), and I know I've never had a problem with it before, but the last time I was at the DMV was when I was actually getting my license for the first time, so Dad was with me. Also had to find the birth certificate, remember that my social security card was actually in my wallet from when I was looking into donating plasma and they had to have your card for whatever reason, etc. etc.

Want to guess what the lady asked me for? My old license. That was it. Last time, even just to get my actual license I think all I needed was the birth certificate and to tell them my social. I've decided that the entire purpose of the new "Show Me Proof" Missouri bring-a-bunch-of-crap-to-get-your-license-renewed program is just to intimidate people into not trying to renew your license if. . . idk, you've somehow un-naturalized in the interim or something.

Got the glasses restriction taken off my license, though, just to prove the guy at the Lenscrafters wrong (and, you know, because I went to the gym at 8 this morning to watch The West Wing and went by the DMV straight from there without grabbing my glasses like I'd intended to just in case I couldn't pass the eye test). This eye doctor man a few days ago was giving me the third degree about whether I wear my glasses driving or not (90% of the time, not; usually only going to and from Springfield and often not even then)--I told him yes, but for some reason he didn't believe me (perhaps because I didn't bring them and he didn't realize that my mom was his next patient and therefore, natch, I didn't drive). I swear, he was about to try a citizen's arrest or something. All "you know that's illegal!" I was like "yeah, but I'm pretty sure it's not a felony." I always figured that if somebody pulled me over and actually looked at that and cared, I could just claim contacts (and the once that the guy of non-turnlane-usage hit me, I don't remember if I was wearing them but I doubt it because I was on the way to the gym, and the officerchick didn't say anything).

Anyway, I'm only 10 past the limit (it's 20/40, I'm 20/50 or something), so I just faked it on the little machine thing. I was totally shaking afterwards, though, because I knew I got a bunch of them wrong--I focus really slowly, but usually if I stay there long enough, my eyes can get there. So I was on the the third set of letters (I think it was a second distance set at a different depth, while the middle was near) when the first distance set popped into focus, and I was like "oh, shit. She's going to call me on it," but I hadn't wanted to go slowly because then I'd arouse suspicion. (I'd already tried to get away with just reading the middle set, but was told to read all the way across). Nope. There was nobody in there, really, and everybody was all laid back, and it was fine. The picture wasn't even too bad though my Chinese food-induced vomiting yesterday caused, as usual, the petechial hemorrhages around my eyes that made me look like I'd been socked in the face.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Was going to continue marathon posting, but figured that last one deserved a post of its own.


Yet again, this dentist is going to have to fix/redo 90% of the work done by the last one. Some of which (yet again) are actually errors on the first one's part. Most recent dentist before yesterday's drilled stuff without filling it, as I've bitched about before. Natch, this guy's all "hahaha, noes" and thinks it's just decay. Umm, look at the goddamned x-ray, sir. Yeah, I've got way more cavities than I should have (most of it's just odd demineralization that I was supposed to be trying to prevent with special toothpaste and then just sort of stopped messing with somewhere along the line and using whatever was around), but those look like little brown spots. These holes look like. . . holes! They're perfectly circular drill holes that she didn't want to fill because she said they were too small for a filling to stick. They also don't have dark spots of decay around them (which is a surprise, actually, because I expected those to cavity up like nobody's business, being, you know, holes). So get your gremlin head out of your ass and believe me for once. That's the biggest thing. If I tell you something, let's proceed on the assumption that I KNOW MORE ABOUT MY BODY THAN YOU DO, kthxbai.

Gremlin. Should explain that. He looks like one. Like for serious. I was trying to find a picture, but the "meet the doctor" bit on his website is suspiciously "under construction". He has a very oval face, but oval in the wrong direction. Cartoonish. Probably it's just really really round, but he also has whiskers that add to the image. I half was tempted to splash some of the mouth-rinsing water on him and see if he would sprout clones and thus get through his queue of patients faster. Or call his wife and make sure she knew he wasn't allowed to eat after midnight. Because, you know, being a tooth-brushing-inclined type of man like I'm sure he is and how you can't eat after you've done so, the issue might not actually have ever come up.

So yes. Bazillions of, not really cavities, but decay spots that he wants to drill. Many of which are erosion bits on my front teeth, mostly in between them, that I'm very reluctant to let somebody mess with. Especially after hippylesbiandentist (what we will call drilling-not-filling-ma'am when we're not calling her that) didn't take the time to match the composite filling color to my teeth well enough and left me with too-white spots on my bottom teeth that show pretty badly.

Sidenote. Point of interest: the random question hit me out of the blue while typing this up--where do you find hard toothbrushes if nobody recommends them. Googled it, and there aren't a whole lot of hits, but I did land on a study of soft vs hard in enamel erosion that found that there was no significant difference in the amount of damage caused by the brushes. Course, a lot of the problem with the hard brushes is more the damage to the gums in either their failure to bend enough to get down in between the gum and the tooth or because you force them down in there and they cut you up, but that's interesting.

I mention this because, as probably has become evident by now, I have zero faith in any dentist by this point. This one was trying to tell me that saliva erodes your teeth because it's acidic. Or, you know, "saliva contains antimicrobial components, as well as minerals that can help rebuild tooth enamel after attack by acid-producing, decay-causing bacteria." Surgeon General > dentist. Also, the hygienist was trying to tell me that the second ingredient in diet soda was sugar. Seriously? Seriously?!

So I'm pretty sure I'm going to cancel this appointment I made for next week and find somebody else for a second opinion first. Because this is a lot of work they've decided I need now less than a year since the last bunch of such work, and I can't believe my teeth are that bad. Sure, I floss all of like never, but neither did my mom, and she's what, 30 years older than me and has had maybe 1/10th of the work done that I have? Really obviously have my dad's teeth, but he's also, you know, not 19, so I don't get why mine are this bad. Plus, I'm not crazy about this guy. Nice, but I suspect his (and definitely his hygienist's) dental knowledge.

Plus plus, anybody that says "Wow, how am I going to do that one? I really have no idea," when referring to one of my cavities is not overly exciting me about his prowess. Though this one in question def. is my fault more or less--the more or less because it's in a really overlapped tooth spot, as I never got braces and I'm really crowded in the bottom, and thus it grew, but because of same crowdedness, I can see how it's going to be pretty damn hard to get in there and fill without destroying both teeth. On the bright side, destroying both teeth means he can fill it back up (though it's the canine and the one closer to the middle, so I'm thinking veneer and not fliling, maybe--that's not something I've looked into a whole lot as I just found out it was a possibility, but I'm interested) in such a way that they don't overlap and thus I wouldn't need braces, considering by the end of what he wants to do, it looks like some 70% of my exposed tooth surface will be composite filling material.

Also. Forgot this bit. Remember how I got the drill broken off in my root canal that I shouldn't have had to have, 'cept second ever dentist (who caught the 12 cavities that first ever dentist let grow, some to near-root-canal size, whilst giving me a clean bill of health over the years including at a visit just two months before all said cavities were found) screwed up and drilled too deep (yeah, she thought I didn't hear her when she said "uh oh" but I did) on the tooth that she had previously said wouldn't need one, and then broke a drill off inside? And then I had to go to a specialist way the fuck uptown four times whilst he dug and dug around in there trying to get it out? According to analysis of a suspiciously thicker looking white line in one of the canals of said tooth, THE DRILL IS STILL FUCKING IN THERE.

Gremlin dentist (yesterday's) was all "well, sometimes it's easier to explain to the patient that it's out rather than that they cleared out all around it and sealed it up and it's okay." First of all, sir, pretty sure that's why I went to the specialist and paid extra money--to get the goddamned thing out. Second of all, I'm not an imbecile nor a child. When somebody's going to be digging around in my mouth, I do my research first, plus both drill-breakage-dentist and the specialist explained my options to me.

And third of all. IT OBVIOUSLY IS NOT OKAY IF THE NEXT THING YOU'RE GOING TO TELL ME IS THAT THERE'S A MOTHERFUCKING SUSPICIOUS SHADOW AT THE BOTTOM OF THAT CANAL!!11one!!elevenhundredeleven!! For those who may not be conversant in root canal, that means bad. Means possible abscess, which would mean root canal failure, which would mean digging out all the shit they packed in there to seal it with and starting all over again.

Finally, when I brushed my teeth tonight, I was quite miffed that all the poking around in there appeared to have made me bleed more than I actually thought your entire gingival vasculature contained. And then I realized that it was probably because of the giant, gaping hole in my cheek that I'd bitten coming down the stairs minutes before. So there's that.
commotiocordis: (Seven/B'Elanna)
So, Alexandria needs to learn to stop writing when she's finished with her essay. Idk, I tend to do that a lot on these big tests (just got out of English Language and Composition, but did the same on the Lit test last week); I'll start winding down the essay/that paragraph/whatever, but then either come up with something I've got to get in there or realize that I've got significant amounts of time left and should probably keep going just so I can show off my impressive verbiaging (YES LIKE THAT) some more, and wind back up again. It'd be no problem if I got to use a computer, as I could just cut the wind-down bit and paste it back on again at the end, but when you don't get that option, it ends up sounding a bit strange; you don't want to cross off large bits of writing because that feels like a waste and it does still fit, but it's not what you'd like to have there.

Another reason I want a computer on these things? Writing is messy. My hands are covered in pen. Somehow I managed to get marks (mostly tiny ones, but a couple substantial, looks like I was trying to cross out my own fingerprints type) on 7 out of 10 fingers, plus a large smudge in between two of them that crosses halfway down my palm, LOL. Plus, though I've never actually timed it, I'm pretty sure I type faster by quite a bit.

The biggest reason? Since we've been typing everything since pretty much elementary school, my spelling has become fail, thanks mostly to Word/Word Perfect's auto-correct. At least when you had to go back and change it yourself, you got to see it pulled out at you as wrong and the correction presented. Now, half the time you don't even notice it change. I'm really good at noticing when something doesn't look right, but when it changes it for you, you don't learn how it really is spelled. It's the worst on the easy words where you're just not quite sure about the order of letters or whether there's a silent something in there, because they're the most often autocorrected by the word processing software and you look the stupidest when you get them wrong on an English language essay.

But yes. Now my back and hand hurts from scribbleage. That was tiring. Especially because none of the group of us that didn't take the Lang class really knew what to expect on that. The essay topics were decent; the passage analysis one was easy just because it was straightforward English class stuff, and the two persuasive-y ones were very ACT/SAT-esque: specific topics (and both pretty politicy-related, which let me go to town), provided backup in the form of either the question intro or the documents in the document-based-question one. I liked them a lot more than the stupid minor-character-as-foil prompt on Lit.

The physics homework (really, extra credit, but still; I needed it, and thus it counts as homework) saga last night was not fun, though. Professor had graded our Saturday finals and had the grades up Monday morning, so I expected to be able to find out how many of the stupid busy work assignments (summarizing in one single-spaced page each the chapters of the textbook--for only one point each, fail--seems like the single most pointless assignment in history, no?) I had to do on Monday morning and then I'd have Monday and Tuesday to do them before they were due by 11:55pm Tuesday night. But no. I spent Monday fighting with the professor because he lost my lab calculation sheet and was trying to give me a 40% on one and a 60% on the other, and I was like OHELLNO, SIR. He finally got back to me telling me that he found it, but by now it was Tuesday and I had 10 to get done. I did the first two during the day only to find out that the outline form I was doing them in wasn't acceptable and I had to write it all out prose-style. Gah. After school I had a doctor's appointment, then a picnic for points for my Econ class, so by the time I got home at 5 or so, I still had essentially 10 of these things to go. Did them. For hours. (Got my mum to transform the outline ones into prosyness for me, though, which was nice. I had to go back through and fix bits, since some bits didn't make sense because she didn't know what she was talking about, and one of them was a bit short because she was just adding the barest amount of words possible to un-outline it when it needed flowered up to hit the 1 page mark, but it saved time.) Finally finished right about 11pm, emailed them to him, ran to the gym for an aborted workout (as they close at 12), got home, cooked dinner even though I was already exhausted because I'd gone to bed really late Monday night and got no nap during the day due to all the workage (because doctor's running bloodwork I've got to get stuck for on Saturday or so and I've got to appear semi-healthy on that), ate dinner, then started studying for today's Lang test. Gave up studying, set the alarm for 5:50am so I could do some of it in the morning, work up at 6:30, ate breakfast, ran out the door, got to school, took test. And here I am. Endsaga.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
OMG, my mouth. Pain. It took them ages to get the temporary crown on/to fit, and my gums were screaming the entire time.

OMG, my wallet. Empty. The crown costs almost as much as the actual root canal? W. T. F.

Didn't end up going back to school, as my 1 hour appointment ended up being two as the receptionist that told me one evidently had no idea what she was talking about, and it wasn't worth driving back and parking and getting out, etc, all for only 15 minutes of my last class. And I was in pain (Still am. Kick in already, Advil!) and already had missed the pizza luncheon that I'd been saving calories all last week for, and more importantly (*cough*bullshit*cough*--nothing is more important than pizza when you've been looking forward to it for more than a week), the points I should have gotten for recruiting somebody to go with me to learn about the marketing program, which pissed me off.

I may not have mentioned (though I think I have) that they're redoing one of the highways in my city. Whatever, it's one I don't use. Except for but. They've screwed with the rest of them to take care of the overflow, as aforementioned highway will be closed for some two years. Gah. The one right by my house is now shoulder-less and with really tiny lanes. Which is scary enough when there's a truck beside you--the news was talking once that they have some tiny number of inches of clearance on each side now, the big 18-wheelers--but is completely terrifying when you're smashed between one of said trucks and somebody pulled over on the lack of shoulder. That is how my drive home went.

But I am home slightly earlier than normal, even for a day when I drive, which is nice. And enjoying a tuna melt (you know, in the sense that it hurts to breathe, much less chew around the left side of my mouth, but I was hungry enough that I decided to do it anyway). Except some facsimile of one, as I don't actually know what a tuna melt is and thus made a sandwich out of a piece of toast, a slightly melted slice of cheese, and some tuna salad, which just sounded about right for something called a tuna melt. The cheese was a waste, though, as I couldn't taste it on there after I lumped on the tuna, which was sad, if only because it was fat-free cheese, which isn't cheap.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
So the endodontist (specialist type guy) can get me in on one day's notice, but it takes the regular dentist 3 weeks.

What. Thefuck.

Cements my assertion that the endodontist is the only competent dentist I've ever had.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)

Called into the endodontist today, and lo and behold, he actually called me back. I've got scrips for both antibiotics (because the gum was all swelly and gross) and uberhighstrength ibuprofen (which I wouldn't have wasted a copay on if I had been the one picking up what he called in, because there's nothing different from just taking two regular ones) that I've been choking (these are horsepills, I say) down since this afternoon.

Realized in church this evening that the tooth of doom, that which has been causing the agony requiring the aforementioned medicines, is cracked all the way through. I was remarking on how it was scary that it felt like when you have a loose tooth that's barely hanging on when I pushed it with my tongue and noticed that it actually was loose.

So, to the receptionist that blew me off twice and doesn't seem to understand the concept of neither pain nor emergency (3 weeks was the soonest appointment I could get--and originally she was trying to make me wait 5), the dentists that screwed it up in the first place, and everybody who just generally seems to assume that since I'm not a dentist, I don't know my own mouth?

Screw you.

I'm looking into finding a lawyer, assholes, since with this, the bills are going to skyrocket yet again for the extraction that I'm assuming is going to ensue (and all the previous ones are once again worth nothing, as the root canal has obviously failed).

I've got to convince my parents to go along with the lawyering up thing first, though. Since I'm on their insurance and they've been paying, idk if I've got sufficient cause to bring anything up by myself save stupid distress charges and such, which I don't really hold with. They were quite reticent at first, but when the final bill comes for the extraction and such, they'll come around, methinks. I get the feeling Mum's in if I'll set things up, especially since I showed them how we can consult with a couple people for free first.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
And my root canaled tooth hurts when I bite down. The temp filling's sinking into the hole again, just like it always does when the endodontist has done it. I've been meaning to call for an appointment for a crown (back at the original chick) all week, but it hasn't gotten done.

I'm not looking forward to going back to her at all. Especially because of the threat of upper-molar fillings.

On the bright side, she's mostly gotten her billing straightened out (all we've had to do is wait, really). We got a statement where it said that the balance was -$185 (which isn't any number that I ever calculated, but larger than I thought, so we'll go with it), but then had a $414 charge tacked on the bottom. The $414 is one of the numbers I found--the exact amount the insurance company paid her for that failure of a root canal, so it looks like the dentist got a bill back from the insurance for the amount she'd been paid for the root canal she wasn't supposed to bill for, and then just slapped it onto me without looking. We're moving in the right direction, at least.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Oh, and by the by. Dentistry insurance problems? Solved. Or at least, I've identified the problems. Getting our money back is a different story. Turns out the statements that dentist one (two) had sent haven't been updated at all since they sent a new (5 months late and frakked up, resulting in, as it stands, us being billed for two co-pays for the same consultation visit) version of the first appointment's billing to the insurance (originally, they only billed for one of the four billable bits from that day and had tacked on the fees for the rest onto our account, when--if they had been billed--they would have been covered by the insurance) when we originally had been being billed for the entire thing. That knocks off a good hundred or so that the dentist's billing company's weird statement had us down for. Plus she billed me twice for the same tooth (which may or may not stick, as it was the three fillings she started and then the root canal that she ended up doing on it--still, fillings never completed, tooth billed for two procedures, thus I'd call that insurance fraud), one of said billings being for the root canal which we were told we wouldn't have to pay for, etc., etc.

All mathed out, if the root canal charge is withdrawn and the double copay fixed, just counting the "estimated fees" we've already paid for everything, she owes us back $86.50. Take out the getting billed for the three fillings that never happened and turned into the root canal from hell, that goes up to $123.70 in cashy money.

Billing from the endodontist is much, much less complicated. I don't remember exactly how much they said we've got left to pay, but I know it's nowhere near $100 off of what it should be, math-wise. (I think there might be an odd $30, but I'll have to check the balance on that next time I go--which is the really frustrating aspect of it all: not until January 3rd. I thought this was a two visit maximum to the new guy, but January'll be #4.)

Though here's the question that my parents say the answer should be no to, but I'm more skeptical. If the dentist bills for outrageous amounts of money, and the insurance that they're in-network for will only accept a slightly more reasonable amount to cover (or cover 70% of or whatever), do I have to cover not only the 30% left of what the insurance recognizes but also the difference between what was billed and what the insurance will acknowledge? Because then all my maths are off. That doesn't seem right at all, but if one were to just go by the statements that dentist one (two) [Ahh, the drill-breaker. You know who I mean.], that's very much what one would think looking at the numbers they're saying I have to pay.

Ahh, book I read most of for that economics term paper. Thank you, sir. I would not be as skeptical of this insurance mess (though it's obviously still a mess and would have gotten figured out eventually even if I didn't go all "I'm putting off doing my AII stuff, let me spend a couple of hours comparing forms, looking up coverages, and making spreadsheets!" because it's too much money to let fly) if I hadn't read about all the crap that gets pulled and that you're never supposed to go with what the billing company throws at you the first time around because it's more likely than not incorrect.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Is currently trying to figure out WTF is going on with this dentistry billing. I think I've found the problem, thank god. The first (second) dentist (she who broke the drill in mouth) screwed up the very first billing, charging the insurance for only 1/4 of the whole initial exam package.

But if I'm understanding this billing right (and I may not be, but I think I am), we've paid the actual dentist more than we should. *continues to investigate*

Oh, and appointment today is what sparked this. Drill still not out. Mouth made sore again for nothing (though I think he may have sealed all the other canals but the one in question). Something called a decalcifier put in, which doesn't sound like something I want in my calcium-filled mouth (though I get what it's supposed to do--loosen up the area around the drill more).
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
The nausea from my restarting the birth control? Overwhelming. I was sick all morning today, and then randomly (which had never happened before) also sick all evening. Except for then I was all OMG, DILEMMA. I couldn't figure out whether the huge increase in nausea in the evening was because of the pill or because as I'd been nauseated all day to various degrees, all day I hadn't eaten more than a bowl of oatmeal in the afternoon.

So I was afraid to cook something because thinking about food is making me nauseated enough by itself, but I was afraid not to just in case it is something like low blood sugar which I can fix, because this is frakking miserable. It may have been this severe before, but never this long-running. I'm pretty sure it's due to the combination of the amoxicillin for the root canal (which--along with my mouth in general from holding it open--hurts, btw, because I had an appointment on Tuesday where they drilled out the old filling, poked around a bit, and then temp-filled it back up and then refused to give me any pain medication) and the birth control, because there's no other explanation for the night nausea, as the bc usually only makes me sick about 8 hours after I take it (maybe earlier, but before that I'm prolly asleep still).

But I did. Choked down half of one of those big rectangular crackers, and have now moved on to trying a bit of protein in the form of a scrambled fakey-egg type thing.

Unfortunately, it appears to not have been low blood sugar. The nausea has subsided a bit (but that may be because by now, the night wave has been going on for 4.5 hours), but it's nowhere near gone. So there is now half of a microwaved fakey-egg thing in a bowl next to me, because I don't know if it's worth trying to force the rest of it down when it's obviously not helping and just typing about the prospect of it is making me ill.

I'm almost to the point of trying to find a doctor I can call right now for a script for Compazine or some such (even though the Minimed presenting doctor talked about how that was one of the medicines that can induce Parkinsonian symptoms, LOL), because I've got homework to do and sleep I should be getting and I can't concentrate (or really do anything but sit here with my hands over my face) when every time I move my head even a little, I have to internally debate whether I need to run to the bathroom because I'm going to throw up or not.

Edit: Now that I think about it, I should add migraine to the list of possibilities. I've only really ever had one really bad one (I'm more of a tension/hay fever/cluster headache kind of girl), but I seem to remember the nausea being like this. I don't have the tunnel vision that usually comes with them, though, nor an actually headache, so idk. Added to the differential anyway.

Edit again: Gah. As I expected, nothing's open but the ER, and I'm not going to bother them for dumb nausea, especially since it's gotten tolerable I'm not constantly feeling like I'm urgently going to vomit anymore unless I make the mistake of moving any part of my body. Though during my searching, interestingly enough, I found that in July one of those urgent care centers is going to be opening only a bit more than a 1/2 mile walk from my house. Were it 8 months later and 6 hours earlier, I'd be golden.

As it stands, I really can't see going to school in the morning having been this sick for this many hours (we're up to five now, not even counting the couple in the morning) all night. But I have to, as I already missed one day in this four-day week, and like I griped about then, am already at least one day over the semester limit to still get credit without makeups.

IDK. I'm prolly going to go wake my mother up (which I hate to do, because she's got to get up even earlier than I do) to see if maybe there's something in the house left over that could help with the nausea. This is not cool.

AND. Has just remembered that I need to take another amoxicillin something like nowish (or earlier). Yeah. That's going to happen.

Edit again again (because this is turning into an all-night saga, as sitting on the couch with the laptop is something I can actually do--or maybe because moving away from the laptop is looking like it's going to make me hurl): So I did actually get up for a moment, and asked my mother, and she pointed me to this Trimethobenzamide stuff in the very back of one of the medicine cabinets. God knows how old it is, but I remember taking it once before, so I figured I'd try it. It was in the wrong prescription bottle, though, so I googled it to make sure this was the stuff I wanted. Tis the stuff I wanted, but, erm, evidently this stuff was banned by the FDA in April for not working.

That's not enough of a deterrent for me, though, because if there's even the slightest chance of this working, I'm trying it. I'm just trying to make sure that there wasn't another reason attached that they're not reporting, just in case it causes hair loss or cancer or something. Aparece que no, it's just the not working.

So yes. I'm going to take this, then prolly go lie down (my bedroom's closer to the toilet anyway, if the path is a little more treacherous due to the fact that I've got piles of clothes on the floor in my room still from the last time I was trying to sort things out/clean up. LOL, hopefully saga end for the night.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Yet another dentist appointment has gone by where the receptionists were obnoxious, the drive there and back was long, the time waited in the office was both long and tedious, and after getting myself psyched up (as much as one can) for pain and misery, nothing happened.

I'm so tired of wasting time and gas money at these places. This time it was because they needed insurance information (my mother's SSN, which they expected me to know, idk why) and couldn't do anything without it. (After, btw, taking an xray of my mouth without putting the lead on me, so if I have no functioning thyroid tomorrow, this is why.) The idiot receptionist (after/before/in between explaining back to me and my father in a quite patronizing manner and at least 8 times exactly what I had told her in the beginning was wrong with the tooth) finally decided to call the insurance company (wonder of wonders; I sure wouldn't have thought of that--oh, right. I suggested it a good 45 minutes before she did so) and found out how much they'd cover (there was issue of it being a retreatment--though I explained that it shouldn't be, as the root-canal-initiating dentist told me they weren't charging at all after she botched it--and thus maybe they not covering for a certain amount of time after the initial one), but by then, she had wasted so much time that I just got sent home.

Then had to go by the eye doctor to pick up my new glasses (it was closer to the dentist than home, but only a bit short of equidistant in a totally different direction), and then my dad and I went for lunchishdinner (it was like 5pm, which is way earlier than I usually eat, but was still considered dinner by the restaurant) in a place that should have been about halfway between where we were and home, but we ended up getting lost, so it took way longer than it should of.

All together, I got home, didn't even sit down before heading out to MiniMed. (Which was, interestingly, rhumatoid arthritis and lupus. Which made me laugh, because it's never lupus.)

When I finally got home, I ended up freaking because I was getting yelled at for things I didn't do, and I couldn't find the keys with the passes to the gym, even though it was 10pm (and then 10:15, and 10:30, and 10:45, and 11pm as I kept frantically looking) and later than I should go on a school night. Because since we went out to eat today, not exactly the best day to skip (even though I don't usually go on minimed nights).
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Movie that made me join the junior high cheerleading squad way back when? Bring it On. I requested all three of them from the libarary and rewatched the first a bit ago.

I loved all the dancy and flippy bits and Eliza Dushku. But then, the cheerleading thing at school turned out to be all "Rah, rah," so I quit. Turns out that if I had stayed on longer, we might have gotten there (it split off into cheerleading and poms, the latter of which does the dancy stuff and the former which does. . . the rah-rah stuff, and I admit, our poms are often pretty cool to watch), but I had no patience. Plus, I was more gymnastic-y than anything, so neither of them really fit, though I find dancing fun.

The next to BiO movies aren't going to be anywhere near as good, though, as there's no Eliza. I only got them on the off chance that there's lots of impressive flippage, because that stuff rocks my socks.

Dentist appointment tomorrow today. Is worried, like always. This is dentist #4, the endodontist that I've never been to. Much pity for my father, though, as he called in to the (totally different) dentist with a toothache a couple of days ago and spent all afternoon today getting two root canals. Though it evens out, because I asked him "So, when do you have to go back?" and he answered "I don't. I'm done." One-visit root canal? Not fair.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Oh, and I forgot to mention. I still have all my teeth. Story of major douchebaggery to come.
commotiocordis: (QPicard)
Definitely have moved into the freaking portion of the waiting to go to the dentist.

Anybody want to donate me a molar?

December 2014

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