10 August 2007

Which Tarot Card Are You?

You Are The Lovers

You represent ideal love: innocence, trust, exhilaration and joy.
You demonstrate the harmony of opposites, two sides coming together.
At times, you also represent the struggle between what is right and what is tempting.
Control is an issue for you, especially when you don't know your reasons for choosing something.

Your fortune:

You have an important choice you need to make about love, and it will be a difficult choice to make.
You are likely struggling between the love you crave and the love that is right.
In the end, you will choose what you crave, even if it's bad for you.
Because without what you crave, you will feel empty and incomplete.

07 August 2007

I've Given Birth Today To Several Dancing Stars

"You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star."~ Nietszche

There simply is not enough time in the day to catalog all of the crappy things going on with me. Most of those things are work-related and I'm sure I'll get around to complaining about them in depth at a later date. For now I'll just hit the high points.

I saw my dermatologist's Physician's Assistant yesterday in the vain hope of finding out the meaning of my diagnosis and potential treatments. I think that's why they called me in the first place. "Come in and discuss the diagnosis and treatment options." So I did.

The PA couldn't even see the affected area. That's interesting because my physical therapist saw it immediately. I was aggravated yesterday and, when my PT person saw it today, I got irritated all over again. Dermatologist PA gazed at my file for a while, repeated the diagnosis of morphea and looked a little confused.

That's it? That's what you have for me? You're just going to tell me the name again and then tell me you can't even see it? Oh my god. This is exactly the kind of thing that made me stop trusting medical professionals in the first place. I spent over 20 years rolling my eyes when people tried to make me see a doctor. Were it not for an abundance of excellent health care experiences the past couple of years, I'm sure I'd be right back to refusing to see any more medical experts after this.

This is exactly the argument I had with Dr. Ross' nurse the last time I was at M.D. Anderson. I was complaining that they'd taken my oncologist away and replaced him with a physician's assistant. "Oh, I've seen them catch things the doctors haven't," she confided.

Really? I've seen them miss things the doctor has already seen and I've heard them give me incorrect information. This latest experience doesn't increase my level of confidence.

I've decided to file this anxiety away somewhere in my brain and restrict further access until I see Dr. Ross. I just refuse to think about it. Luckily, I have lots of things going on at work to take up my precious brain power.

Surprise! We're "rolling out" a new workers' compensation program on September 1. The insurance rep showed up today with a notebook which purports to tell me how to "roll" it out. The upshot is this. If I'm working with a client and break my ankle, I'll need to let my foreman know. My foreman will make me fill out three or four forms and acknowledgments. My foreman will then call ggirl at the office and find out who's close by that I can see. No. I may not go to the hospital. Well, maybe I can. Only if it's an emergency, though. Of course, nowhere is there any definition of "emergency" to be found in any of the "roll out" materials.

I have no idea whether I have to continue to report things to the state in a new way or the old way or any way at all. Tomorrow, after I clean up the mess created by one of our foremen (that's right...it's Loathsome) , I'll have to try to track down the information on the state website. You know that will be easy. After I figure all of this out, I have from now until September 1 to get materials disseminated to four different sites.

I just took a break to have a 45 minute conversation with the Foot Lady about the issue of drug testing after injuries. Now it's almost time to go home. I'm not picking up that damn phone again for the next ten minutes.