Monthly Archives: August 2013
Seriously. I should just take up residence here at the hospital. It appears I’m never leaving work. Like, ever.
I’ve noticed a trend here in Alabama that baffles me, yet amuses me beyond anything else. The intentional mispronunciation of particular words for the sake of sounding a “tad bit sophisticated”. Hardy har har, you’ve got to be kidding, right?
Here are a couple of examples that I’ve recently been presented with:
“Mollie, do you wanna run over to the ice cream stand and get some scha-veyed ice?” (Scha-veyed = spelled Shaved.)
“Mollie, we’re heading downtown to the club. It’s called the E-Light.” (spelled Elite).
“Mollie, would you like to go with us to Lake Jerdan?” (Lake Jordan).
I’ve declined all things above, simply because the intentional mispronunciation sends me flying into hysterics, and then frustration.
Does one scha-vey their legs? Is Michael Jerdan a basketball player as well? Am I being an E-light-ist jerk?
Friends, if you get a chance, check out some amazing Southern Artwork at The Art Studio by Mark Moore. Beautiful pieces.
“The Frame Gallery” canvas 16×20 commissioned
The Frame Gallery in Athens Al has been at the same location for 30 years this year, this is one of the few places you can still get hand crafted custom frames done. You wouldn’t think that this shop in a small town like Athens Alabama does a world wide business, but it does and the owner Tony Cooper hand crafts frames to extend the art he is framing.
In the window I wanted to pull some of the details I notice as I come up to the shop, the thing that always catches my eye is the football on top of the frame display, but notice the painting in the window and the pottery on the window seal
Notice the Street Sign, Thomas Jefferson was the 3rd President of The United States (just found that interesting)
Can you find Tony Cooper the show…
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I went to bed relatively early last night. My internet crashed, so of course I had no other choice. As I headed into my bedroom, I set up the doggy gates for Heckyl & Jeckyl, then crawled into the giant powderpuff that is my bed.
All was quiet on the homefront. That is until something completely magical must have inspired my two lovely pups to begin Christmas caroling. They weren’t barking. They weren’t running through the house doing their usual high-speed “zoom zoom” routine. Nope. They were singing. Howling, and singing.
I jump from my bed, and there stand Heckyl and Jeckyl at the gate. They’re plopped in front of my door, noses upturned to the sky, mouths agape. They continue on in melodic doggy harmony. “What the hell are you two doing?” I mumble. They peer up at me, and continue singing. Well, gee, who knew that two dachshunds could hit such a fabulous falsetto at 1 AM?
I know now. My neighbors know, too.
I’m pretty sure that their new doggy gate was their source of inspiration. I’m thinking we’re going to go with the old-fashioned closing of the bedroom door tonight, so as not to wake the entire Eastern seaboard again at 1 AM.
It seems there’s been an outbreak of Entitlement Syndrome across the city in which I live. We’ve yet to determine it’s exact origin, but we suspect the pandemic began somewhere between 2003 and 2013. Symptoms include:
- Expecting a paycheck for existing.
- Expecting a paycheck for procreating, and of course, existing.
- Expecting groceries, utilities, gasoline vouchers, rent, and living expenses to be paid in full simply for, well, existing.
- Inability to make it to your free doctor’s appointments on time or at all because you like to sleep in late.
- Fear of being independent.
- Unwillingness to accept responsibility for anything at all.
- Sudden outbursts of anger when you don’t get exactly what you want when you want it, regardless of the fact that you’re getting it for free.
- Lying to government and healthcare agencies in order to obtain more free shit simply because you have a pulse.
I am all about helping those in need. I fully support helping people who are unable to help themselves. I am not against, in fact I am an advocate of programs designed to help those who are truly in need. I would never, ever knowingly allow someone to go hungry if I could help it. I believe that all living beings are to be cared for regardless of their income or lack thereof. It is the attitude of entitlement that some people display that sends me into a fit of fury. I feel that if you are a physically and mentally capable person, it is your responsibility to earn the things that you have. Sure, we all like a little bonus here and there. I can’t say that I’ve earned every single thing that I’ve acquired in my entire lifetime. Know this, though – It is not my civic duty to work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week to make sure that you and your family live comfortably while I struggle to pay my bills. It is not my personal responsibility to bust my ass while you do nothing to help yourself. Furthermore, if you do get something for nothing, show some appreciation rather than “more more more”. I don’t owe you anything. Nothing. Zilch. The world owes you nothing. If you want it, get it. If you can’t get it, be grateful for what you do have. There are many people who are truly unable to do for themselves who would give everything they have for independence and self-sufficiency. I’ve had the pleasure of knowing numerous people who lack the very simple, physical capabilities that you take for granted, and they strive to provide for themselves and their families without complaint. Their struggles are real. They are grateful not only for tangible things. They are grateful for each waking moment they’ve been blessed to live and each breath they take.
I am astounded by the number of people that I come in contact with on a daily basis who think nothing of their sedentary, goalless lifestyles. It is infuriating that some people have absolutely no gratitude or appreciation for the luxuries afforded to them every day. I can accept the fact that some people don’t realize how good they’ve got it. What I cannot handle is being verbally assaulted because your freebies aren’t “enough”. Are you kidding me? Really?
It the blatant abuse of “hand up” programs that turns my head into a red, hot boiling steam-kettle.
“I can’t make my appointments cos I like to sleep late and I don’t like to drive all the way across town to see you. Can’t home health come see me in the afternoons so I don’t have to get up and go nowhere?”
“No. Your Medicaid doesn’t cover home health, and with your diagnosis of low back pain, we can’t justify sending a home health nurse out to your home. You’ll need to get up earlier and try to make it here if you want to be seen.”
“What do you mean, ‘I need to get up early’? I have a sleep disorder and I’m trying to get disability…”
Weird. Your H&P mentioned nothing of the sort. You’re 20 years old. Buy an alarm clock and a coffee pot like the rest of the world.
“No, sir. You’ll need to come in for your appointment like everyone else.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why don’t Medicaid pay for that? I should get home health. Someone better come out to my house and fix my back or I ain’t gonna come!” he argues.
Well, I’ll tell you why no one is coming to your home. You’re young, younger than I am and you’re able bodied. You don’t work, and you’re home all day and available to come to any appointment we give you. We all like to sleep in. I do, too. We still have to get up early and be productive citizens, so that we can pay for you, too. You’re able to party it up in 5 inch heels on Friday nights, yet you find movement of any sort absolutely excruciating when you arrive to my office.You’re non-compliant and you can’t seem to remember your home-exercises that you were given to relieve your pain. You no-show to 75% of your scheduled appointments and when you do show up, you’re decked out in a wardrobe that puts the entire contents of my closet to shame. The cell phone that you’re calling me from costs the equivalent of 3 of my car payments. You’re paying absolutely nothing for the care that you’re receiving, and yet you refuse to participate in your own healing. You sit at home all day and collect money that you feel you are owed simply because blood flows through your veins. Okay, your back hurts. News flash – if you got your ass up off that damned sofa and DID something, you wouldn’t need home health. You’re sore because you lay sedentary all day watching television. Why on God’s Green Earth should we send someone out to your home? You’d probably sleep through our knock at the door anyway.
“Well, you need to make sure you tell the Medicaid Agency all my visits when they call. I need that gas money. You guys don’t have to tell them the exact dates…” I nod and check the computer. “Yes sir. They’re all listed. I’ll make sure they communicate your appointments to the agency when they call. Keep in mind that you failed to attend 8 of 12, though.”
And it never fails – the agency calls to verify appointments, and there are always at least 10-15 more appointments pending reimbursement that the patient never showed for. I receive a call a week later, usually with a lot of cussing and carrying on because “my check was short”. It’s not a payday. The system is designed to assist you, not to support you. ASSIST you in getting to your medical appointments for that back of yours that needs a free massage 3 times a week. Why are you screaming at me? You failed to make it to your appointment because you didn’t want to get out of bed that day. How is that my fault?
“I had to wait in the waiting room for 15 minutes. Do I get a meal ticket?”.
No. You do not get a free meal ticket because you came to the doctor today.
“Why not? I should get a meal ticket for having to come see you today.”
I don’t get comped meals when I go to the doctor. Why should you?
“I have Medicaid. They don’t pay for that? I had to wait out here in the lobby and I had to get up early today.”
No. Lunch is not on us today.
I don’t think I will ever comprehend the “helping me is not enough” mentality. Give me more, more more, right now, but don’t expect me to work for it, and damned sure don’t expect me to appreciate it. Give me something for nothing, and don’t you dare expect me to help myself.
What a shame.