I hate hospitals. I really do. I feel badly about this fact since they do so much good for people and babies are generally born in them. The smell of them brings me back to when I was twelve and losing my dad. I hated visiting him because doing so just meant seeing him get thinner and thinner, paler and paler, and sicker and sicker. I also feel badly about this, because ultimately I stayed away more than I came. I'm typing this in a hospital. My mom is in surgery right now getting a knee replacement, and while I have no big or serious concerns about the goings-on inside the OR, there is always the thing in the back of my mind that reminds me she is mortal and I'm already one parent down. I can't really talk about my mom because everything inside of me will come out my eyes, and I'm not ready for her to see all that in the room later on. Let it just be said that I love her. (The nurse just came out to tell me she was almost done..)
So now I should talk about Peace Corps. Or at least some of the crap that is loosely related to it. I paid a bill online earlier, one that came from the lab in the amount of $90.00 to cover my second pap test that took place since someone, somewhere, screwed something up. It's not fair, it really isn't, but I doubt that QuestDiagnostics gives a crap. I also got a $55.15 bill from my doctor for the visit, but I called and asked them to take care of that, since I was told I wouldn't have to pay it. Funny story: I called last Wednesday to ask about starting bcp again, and there wasn't an answer, not even a voicemail. Same thing this morning, so I checked the website and realized that I'd been calling the wrong number, 0930 instead of 0390. Oops. The girl who answered took my information, because of course my doctor is out of town this week, and said that I could get a prescription next week when he gets back. I need to call back and ask that he also write a statement about it all for the nice PC medical staff. Jeez Louise.
Last, I'm 3 seasons deep into The Dick van Dyke Show, and will truly be sad when it's over. I have a slight (read:major) crush on Rob & Laura Petrie, and am a bit ashamed to say I wouldn't really mind being a 60's housewife if I could be like her. Except the whole twin beds thing, that's just silly.