They say shit rolls downhill, right? Well some days, I feel like if that's the case than I am at the bottom of that hill, in a hole dug at the bottom of said hill, being covered in shit. If I'm not at work trying to mind my own business and not bury a pair of scissors in some self entitled morons forehead for their ignorance and all around rudeness, I am sitting in an urgent care facility thinking I have a sinus infection and a spider bite, only to be told I have shingles. ON MY FACE. Which ya know, just HAPPENS to be the most dangerous kind of shingles someone can get because it's all like near my FUCKING EYE AND BRAIN and stuff so now I have to worry that I will go blind and start slurring my words even when I'm not drunk - which isn't much lately because of the aforementioned self entitled morons and all the scissor stabbing that needs to take place.
I'm trying to be all unicorns-and-rainbows-coming-out-of-my-ass-happy ya'll....really, I am. But life is having a really good time fucking with me and seeing how many things it can throw at me before I finally flip my shit and go all sniper coo-coo on top of a 7-Eleven taking out tailgating drivers and people that still bump Snoop Dogg out of the sub-woofers in the trunk of their beat up Hondas. It's gonna happen.
Let's take inventory of the last two years.
- I spent EIGHT long months being tested to find out why I was in pain all the time. I was poked, prodded, violated, de-blooded, medicated, shocked with nerve conductors and cat scanned to death to find out why my vision was blurry, my feet/hands/mouth were numb and why I had a never ending migraine. These were just on the non-Muscato days, mind you. My husband isn't a Doctor, no matter how often he likes to play that game.
- I received a diagnosis of MS. Not something anyone wants, but at least it was a diagnosis. Over the course of six months I would try several different medications and treatments, each one making me more sick than the next, NONE of them bringing me any relief or comfort.
- After another round of testing (over two more months and several more doctors), it was determined that I did NOT in fact has MS, but I had my original diagnosis of Lupus and the cherry topping to that would be another diagnosis of Fibromyalgia. OK, then. You're funny, life. Real fucking funny.
- Just as I start to get my shit together and find the right combination of meds (and also regulate a severe B-12 neuropathy), I happily head off to my nieces 2nd birthday party only to BLACK THE FUCK OUT, trip and fall IN A WALGREENS PARKING LOT and break my arm. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- Arm heals. Life resumes. Things are starting to get back to normal once again. I harmlessly go in to see the GYN for a yearly exam and some hormones. What does she find? Why a lump of course!!! So, let's schedule a mammogram in TWO MONTHS and a BRCA test and then you can decide whether or not you would like to live in fear of WHEN you may or may not get breast cancer, or just have them puppies cut right off and take a brand new pair for a spin. Who wouldn't like a brand new pair of perky titties for their 40th birthday courtesy of their health insurance provider, right? I mean hell, that lump could have just saved me $5k!! Oh look, a silver lining! *insert sarcasm here*
- And then......shingles. On. My. Face. Because why would I get it on my stomach like a normal human being?
I am pretty sure that in a past life I was the office bitch who tortured everyone. Or I pulled the whiskers off of small kittens. Or kicked crippled kids. Surely, I have done SOMETHING to deserve this much aggravation.
They say God never gives you more than you can handle. And the joke is that God must think I'm a badass. Am I mean, I AM. But for reallies God, can you let someone else be a badass for awhile because like, I'm really, really tired and my face is sore from fake smiling for people.
But until then, I will drink and be merry. And I will keep looking for that fucking silver lining everyone talks about. And if anyone wants to go digging up my ass for those unicorns and rainbows I was talking about, go right ahead, but be warned, my sarcasm may or may not smell alot like refried beans today so Happy Hunting!