I Just Want A God Damn Cookie

So I have not been able to eat because I have to have blood work done, and I of course wake up completely starved to death and almost shaky. Any other day I would not be able to even think of eating until about 10 but not today. I am now all edgy and grumpy and hurrying to get to the lab before my scheduled gyno exam. Trying to figure out how to smuggle a cookie or something into that office and eat it, even if I have to do so during the actual exam itself, I mean that should not interfere with it at all. And while I am plotting and planning for a cookie, I cannot get my stupid brand new gloves on. And I realize I am obviously delirious from hunger, and stop and try to get my fingers in their designated holes, but they are shown shut! For heaven sake, those eight year old Chinese kids are really getting sloppy.

I abandon that whole effort, and realize the vast amount of time I used up trying to get my gloves on, has not forced me to go to the gyno first, then to the blood work, and robbing me of my cookie while my feet are in the stirrups experience. Great. I get in the car, which by the way has about enough gas to get me to the gyno and 1/2 way home, thanks Tank. I race to the office, fill out the forms, get weighed (how the F do you gain two pounds since Friday???) realize I put on a pair of socks that have a hole in the heel. Now I am freaking out about that hoping that the doctor does not judge me, because i really so have nice socks, I was just trying to match, because not matching would be worse judging, and now i have a tiny hole. (I just realized how funny that sentence is in the context of the doctor's view of the hole.) Okay, enough of that, I get dressed, and wonder around the office until I find my way out, and over to the lab. I actually pass a subway and think they have cookies but having one in the car would be too tempting.

So they get my blood, ask me if I am on blood thinners, which is odd. Then I have to give a urine sample, and I thank heavens I had not snuck a cookie in here, because you cannot do that and eat a cookie.

Now that is done and I have to head for the mammogram office, and time is tight, so I go their fist, no cookie yet, and they explain they cannot do it now. I look around and I see no one in the office.

Are you too busy?, I ask.
No you just have to make an appointment.
Can I make one now?
No, you have to make it through the appointment center.
I get out my phone, I ask for the number.
You cannot use the cell phone in here.
They call and hand me the phone.
I need to make an appointment.
When can you come in?
I am here now.
We do not have any appointments available.
There is no one here.

Great. I have to make it for my next day off, because apparently woman that work have to have mammograms on a days vacation, or not at all. Boobs are seemingly too busy on the weekends to be available for such things. I told them all not to work too hard. They gave me a pink breast cancer pen. I would rather have had the mammogram or a cookie.

Now I have just about enough time to get something to eat, before the foot doctor. So I go to the mall which is freakishly packed and I have to drive up and down the aisles to find a spot that i can maneuver into, which is not easy because I have no depth perception anyway and I am starting to black out from lack of food. I stumble into the food court and go to the only booth without a line, fish and chips. No cookies, but a meal - which by the way is all deep fried and violently hit my empty stomach like a live porcupine. Now I am sick, head achey, weak, and limping on my sore foot.

I get to the foot doctor, and begin filling out the paperwork, there is a question that is unusual, 'what name do you prefer to be called?' I put, the amazing Zelda. I would prefer to be called that. It seemed cool. The receptionist, a perfectly groomed young man, found it hilarious, which has endeared him to me forever. I realize I do not have a cookie yet, but I have had a laugh and that is all good. So he leads the Amazing Zelda back to the room and in comes the Doctor, (who was at the nursing home all morning -so my 50 year old feet probably did not look so bad and I had slipped my shoes off while waiting so they did not have their usual stench) he too was very well groomed and may be getting his braces off soon (kidding, he probably had them off at least a year) he looks at my chart and talks to me for a minute. I told him I had explained to the primary doctor that my heel was killing me, then they took an x-ray and then called me and told me it was a fracture. Seems that the fracture though is not in my heel but three of my toes, and are really old fractures. If they would have told me that it was my toes I would have not bothered with the foot doctor, because I break them so often I am really not sure they are still attached. How embarrassing, I have been telling anyone who will listen that I have a fractured heel? No I do not. I have a fracture in my communication and lisening skills and did not get that heel pain and an X-ray does not a fractured heel make. So what is wrong with my heel? I am a freaking bear foot hillbilly and my high arches are pulling the tendons. I have to get running shoes and wear them. The Amazing Zelda is not happy.

I hobble from the office, rather disgruntled. But I think with two new friends! I leave, on my way to my next appointment, now to the get some assistance with the rest of my problems, I have been poked and prodded not nearly enough. I did not get the answers I was hoping for, nor the advice I really wanted. But I have now set a goal to save enough to make things happen for myself. I will work with my budget and get a second job if I have to but 2010 is not going to be as frustrating as this year.

There will be cookies for the Amazing Zelda one way or another.