it is bad enough being ill. working 10 hours a day, dealing with what seems like terminal insomnia. then there is the voice mail, not returning your call world of dealing with people who either cannot, or chose not, to comprehend the skin you are jumping out of.
the simple act of setting up surgery dates and pre-op appointments, while juxtaposing work schedules has become brobdignagian in nature. you are given a date then it is changed by the doctor's office. when you leave a message for more information, such as what time is the surgery, and what is the pre-op schedule, the simple courtesy of a reply is denied.
everything is a battle, and my inner troops are severly depleted.
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