And I know how much you guys like my stupid little rants about stuff that really, in light of the state of the world today, amount to nothing more than a fat old lady howling into the wind.

Anyhow.  We’re currently having a snowstorm.  I wouldn’t quite call it a blizzard (being from Michigan and all, we take our “how bad is the weather” rating system quite seriously).  But it is ugly out and the roads are uglier.

I have two things on my calendar today – my weekly blood draw (given my last platelet results, this was non-negotiable – and fyi, my platelets have lept up from 12 to 35! Whoo-hoo!).  And a follow-up appointment with my primary physician about my ongoing, post-surgery tachycardia and shortness of breath (both of which are bad enough to be debilitating at times). 

Plans set.  Go out for the blood draw; stop at McDonald’s and get a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin (food of the Gods), and go to the doctor appointment, and then home to my warm, safe abode.

All this was predicated on my belief that my doctor appointment was at 11 a.m. 

Wrong. 

While waiting for the blood draw, I got a text reminding me to be at the doctor’s office by 10:15 a.m.  What?  Seriously?  I check my calendar.

Fuck.

No McDonald’s for me.

I get to the doctor’s office about 10:10 a.m. and at the front desk, I am told the doctor is out sick (hey, it happens) and my appointment is canceled.  Wait. What? Again, seriously?  Nobody can cover for him?  I risked life and limb to get here, not just on time, but early and have you looked outside lately – it’s a snowy nightmare out there, and this is what I’m told?

ANGRY.

Then they tell me they sent me a message this morning on the medical portal.

I repeat, seriously?  I didn’t go on my computer this morning where I might have seen such a message.  I was busy, getting shit done and trying to get to this appointment during a fucking snowstorm.

Besides, I am signed up for text notifications.  I always sign up for text notifications for appointments.  Sign up for text notifications and you are going to be bombarded with fucking texts.  In fact, as noted above, I received a text notification telling me when to get to the appointment. 

SO FUCKING ANGRY.

The lady at the front desk wants to reschedule.

I simply cannot deal.  I say no and leave.  And drive (on the slick, snowy/slushy streets) home.

I pull up the portal and see the message, and reply.  Sorry to Nurse Geneva; it’s not your fault that the system is (apparently) deeply flawed, but nonetheless it is true that your system sucks.  Hard.  With inappropriate use of teeth.

Is this a big deal?  Rationally, no.  But in my fat old lady heart the rage lives on.  Eventually, I’ll laugh about how stupid this was and how stupid my reaction was, but not today. 

Not today.