Ok, so today was the day of reckoning. I went to the Orthopedic Doc that would decide my fate.
I fucked it up bad. I couldn't talk without blubbering like an idiot. It pissed off the doc. We danced around for almost a solid hour.
When my voice would crack and the waterworks started..He would glare at me and tell me to get a grip and he was leaving the room in order for me to do that.
He did it three, or was it four times..fuck I dunno.
Some might say he left his compassion in his other pair of pants. I just chalk it up to his total lack of bedside manner. Or perhaps he doesn't know how to deal with people that are emotionally out to lunch when forced to relive what fucked up the rest of their life in one downward spiraling eight month period before my back took a final shit.
I am not equipped to deal with such an emotional meltdown...I am after all the bitch that loves to go toe to toe with ego-tripping individuals. I am the bitch that banged her head on the glass ceiling so hard I broke through by sheer willpower alone.
I did it whilst raising a child all by my lonesome too. And in heels to boot. Sometimes even backwards..sort of.
Well, the days of wearing stilettos are over and obviously I don't have the intestinal fortitude to calmly discuss my work accident either. So fucking sue me there are worse things in life methinks.
But someone had to tell me to snap out of it....as I have done so many times to other people when the table was turned. He was Cher to my Nicholas Cage;
I just hope he made sense of it all, and understood and that I will get the medical decision I have been hoping for, these two and a half long-ass years. If not...
Fuck it...I will survive. I just hope I don't 'go there' emotionally ever again. It was a fucking trainwreck and I keep playing it over in my head. Who the fuck was that person that took over my body and left me standing there like a dipshit?
Thank Buddha I buy good makeup... and the mascara...hell, the shit didn't run, not even a little bit. ;)