THIS FAT OLD LADY’S ME MONDAY – JUST CALL ME CRABBY McCRABBY

I have had an unpleasant day and I have no doubt that I am over-reacting but I am still just feeling tired and crabby.  (Even after eating cookies!)

With the continuing issues with the equipment at the Kaiser Cancer Treatment Center, my radiation treatment schedule is just fucked.  Today I had my treatment at 1:45 p.m.  This meant I had to take time off of work, which meant (or in truth, I chose to) making up the time by starting early.  Actually, it wasn’t so much a choice because there was a huge brief that required my magic word-processing touch that was supposed to be done last week, wasn’t finished, was supposed to be sent to me over the weekend but wasn’t done on Saturday, but was supposed to be sent to me Sunday for sure – and despite numerous e-mails back and forth and me sitting at my computer waiting so I could get started on the monster, never fucking showed up.  Which meant the formatting, etc. all had to be done today – preferably in the morning before I left for my treatment.

I got to my treatment early (as I am wont to do) and sitting in the parking lot, reading my Kindle when my phone rings.  It’s work.  (Sigh.)  Our document management program is not playing nice with the monster document and wants to know if it would be okay to overwrite it.  Fuckety-fuck-fuck-fuck.  I have no idea why this is happening and I have an attorney who is (rightfully) scared about what might happen to this humongous (and now formatted replete with Table of Contents and Table of Authorities) if she allows it to be overwritten and she wants to know what to do.  How the fuck should I know?  But we talk it through and she opens it without overwriting and none of my work is there.  She closes it, without saving, and then takes the only other option of overwriting – and ta-dah!  It’s all there.  We both heave a large sigh of relief.  Thanks a butt-load Microsoft Word and/or iManage – whichever one of you was at the bottom of this little adventure in terror.

For the first time, they are running late and I end up waiting 30 minutes for my treatment (besides the hour I spent in the parking lot) – and this is why I keep my Kindle all charged up.

Get back home and there is just a shit ton of work waiting for me.  I don’t know what is going on.  Maybe the attorneys were freaked out because I took last Friday off and saved everything they ever thought of doing until today; maybe, they freaked out that my hours were weird; maybe they are freaked because we’re headed to a long weekend.  Whatever the reason, it was clearly a get everything off my desk and send it to Terri kind of day. 

I get an e-mail notification of my appointment to meet with the oncology radiologist – not my regular doctor, she’s off this week – but some guy.  The appointment is for 7:30 a.m. but my treatment for that day isn’t until 9 a.m. (it was changed from 8 a.m. for reasons I cannot fathom).  If they think I’m going to sit around for 2 hours between the appointment and my treatment – somebody is high (and it ain’t me).  So I have to go in and straighten that out tomorrow. 

Speaking of tomorrow and my last treatment – they are for 7:30 a.m., which means I’ll have to get up at 5 a.m. to get ready and there on time. 

So really, I know I should be grateful that I have health insurance and can get the treatments I need.  I should be grateful that I have a job where I am needed (if not always appreciated).  But sometimes, all the little nit-picky shit and changes (God (TIDBI) do I hate changes) get to me.  So excuse me while I go indulge my crabby mc crab crabby self.  Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day – but I sincerely doubt it.

Oh, one bit of good news, I am now signed up for a weekly online class Healing Expressions:  Five Steps to Mindfully Releasing Anger.  Just a wild guess, but I think this might be just what the doctor (should have) ordered.

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