Medical Anomaly, Part 2

…did I seriously just pay $52 for my doctor to tell me EXACTLY the same stuff he told me yesterday when he called to say he was cranking up my synthroid? WTF. Why did I bother to go? Oh wait… if I didn’t go, the clinic would still bill me as if I had gone. *sigh*

Well, at least it’s not as much as last year. It’s weird, my synthroid was only $10 where it was almost double that last year, and the doctor visits were, like, $80… huh.

Awesome doctor concurs that my mother is a wee bit off. He has a bulldog– ONE bulldog, not three. Now that he knows I’m an attic monster and that currently the best I can do as far as exercise is pacing around in the teeny, uncluttered part of the stretch of hallway (let’s see how many times I can go without having to sit! …wow, that sounds really pathetic!) because otherwise my presence causes the dogs to go berserk and bark like I’m a home invader, I think my circumstances make a little more sense to him.

Mother, on the other hand, doesn’t believe a word of the lab results and wishes Awesome Doctor would be more of a fat-shaming asshole. *sigh* When will she get that she can’t just… force people to back her up when she breaks out the concern troll-y to make it look like I’m someone who should be controlled/restrained/brainwashed into submission.

…like I’m a dog. HMM.

I just don’t even answer her ranting anymore, not feeding into her drama-making, “poor me” venting. I am not going to die next Tuesday, sheesh. -_-;

In other news, need to hurry the hell up and finish this ramen piece. I’ve others in the queue piping up. One of them involves Numair and a rubber ducky… and an extremely nosy kitty who tempts fate via bathtub. >_>;

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