All of this medical stuff is making me an emotional wreck. I called the cardiologists today to make an appointment and I find out that the ER doc didn't mention the stress test in his 'release notes'. I also found out that this guy was a D.O. (doctor of osteopathy). Boy did that give me some comfort. Not.
I also found out that since he didn't write it in the notes, I can't get the stress test since the insurance company won't cover it. There's a shocker. So, the lovely lady I was speaking to said to go ahead and make an appointment and there could be a good chance the cardiologist would go ahead and order the test anyway, thus being covered by the insurance.
I'm certainly not trying to buy problems here, but I know something is not right. I can feel it. I'd like an answer one way or the other.
Hayley has been a trouper through this whole thing. She even brought me breakfast in bed yesterday. I haven't told Taylor yet so I imagine she's going to be pissed off at me for not telling her. I just wanted to wait until there is something to say for sure.
Warren is being unusually optimistic in one sense. He thinks I'm going to get a clean bill of health and everything will be hunky and dory. On the other hand, he is taking everything I do very personally and is avoiding me like the plague. I guess I don't blame him. No one wants to be around anyone who is not talkative and in tears most of the time. I'm pretty sure some of that has to do with the lack of caffine and alcohol. I think he got mad when I refused the glass of wine tonight.
Bless his heart, he made bacon and eggs for dinner, and honestly, he might have liked it but it was gross. He put pepper on the bacon while he was cooking it. YUK! The man is a pepper freak and he needs to realise that not everyone likes pepper and really, when you are cooking for other people, less is more. None would have been better.
I should have had cereal. Oh God, then he mentioned that he should make his mothers' lasagne. May she rest in peace, I don't think Warrens going to do it justice. I'm afraid of it to be honest. I mean, really, if a person peppers to death eggs and bacon, can he really make edible lasagne? Seriously? I think not.
We'd be better off with grilled cheese.
I just seriously want a cup of coffee or something other than water.
I'm sorry I've made this so difficult for everyone. It certainly was not my intention. It's hard not to wallow in ones own self pity. It comes off more like: I'm scared and I need you to make this better - you're scared too but you won't say anything so we just avoid each other and you tell me I'm acting a certain way so you don't want to be around me. Boy, there's a recipe for success.
I also found out that since he didn't write it in the notes, I can't get the stress test since the insurance company won't cover it. There's a shocker. So, the lovely lady I was speaking to said to go ahead and make an appointment and there could be a good chance the cardiologist would go ahead and order the test anyway, thus being covered by the insurance.
I'm certainly not trying to buy problems here, but I know something is not right. I can feel it. I'd like an answer one way or the other.
Hayley has been a trouper through this whole thing. She even brought me breakfast in bed yesterday. I haven't told Taylor yet so I imagine she's going to be pissed off at me for not telling her. I just wanted to wait until there is something to say for sure.
Warren is being unusually optimistic in one sense. He thinks I'm going to get a clean bill of health and everything will be hunky and dory. On the other hand, he is taking everything I do very personally and is avoiding me like the plague. I guess I don't blame him. No one wants to be around anyone who is not talkative and in tears most of the time. I'm pretty sure some of that has to do with the lack of caffine and alcohol. I think he got mad when I refused the glass of wine tonight.
Bless his heart, he made bacon and eggs for dinner, and honestly, he might have liked it but it was gross. He put pepper on the bacon while he was cooking it. YUK! The man is a pepper freak and he needs to realise that not everyone likes pepper and really, when you are cooking for other people, less is more. None would have been better.
I should have had cereal. Oh God, then he mentioned that he should make his mothers' lasagne. May she rest in peace, I don't think Warrens going to do it justice. I'm afraid of it to be honest. I mean, really, if a person peppers to death eggs and bacon, can he really make edible lasagne? Seriously? I think not.
We'd be better off with grilled cheese.
I just seriously want a cup of coffee or something other than water.
I'm sorry I've made this so difficult for everyone. It certainly was not my intention. It's hard not to wallow in ones own self pity. It comes off more like: I'm scared and I need you to make this better - you're scared too but you won't say anything so we just avoid each other and you tell me I'm acting a certain way so you don't want to be around me. Boy, there's a recipe for success.
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