November 8

 

 

That's my arm, see? Yesterday, I had to go for the 6 month (and I can not believe it's been 6 months. I need not reiterate that these have been 6 of the crappiest, most puerile months in the 34 years of my life) followup MRI/doctor's appointment for my UFE. The MRI wasn't as horrible as the last time, I'm not sure why because I was in there for just as long (an hour) and I was ALL the way in. AND, as you can plainly see, I had an IV. It's important to know that that giant bruise is not actually from a successful IV insertion. Nay, you can't even SEE where the nurse got the needle in. This arm mess was thanks to the MRI tech. Awesome! The news from the doctor was mixed. In May, I had 5 fibroids. Two small, one large and one huge. Two of them are dead (and I have to wonder, does "dead" mean they're all shriveled up and hanging off my uterus like deflated flesh balloons, or does dead mean they are totally gone? Anyone care to wager a guess?) the huge one and a small one. The other ones are still there. My first instinct was to book another surgery and get rid of them IMMEDIATELY because for fuck's sake! That's gross! He told me that my best bet would be just to leave them unless my symptoms became unmanageable again because he was under the impression that since they didn't respond to treatment, that they were getting their blood supply from my ovaries and if you (he) mess(es) with the ovaries, you (he) might bring on early menopause. My life is nonstop AWESOME!!!

Then, there's the tragic tale of my bank card. Dig this. Two weeks ago, Nicole and I went off to the mall. After rifling around H&M fruitlessly, we decided to stop and get some lunch. We stop at a bank machine because neither of us have cash. It is my own branch's machine. I swipe my card and wait for the money flip sound. Nothing. A message appears on the screen about my card not being valid. Nicole buys lunch. We go to the supermarket and I pick up a few things, totally forgetting that I'd had trouble with the card earlier. Same thing. Nicole pays for my groceries like she's my mom.

The next day, I call my bank and explain the story (note: in the meantime, I've tried the card on 3 other bank machines to no avail). They order me a new card and tell me that I'll get it in 7-10 days. I sit tight. Sort of. Have you ever been without your debit card? And been forced to write checks everywhere? I did it at the supermarket and had to fill out a three page form before they'd accept my $29 check.

Ten debit-card free days pass. No card. I call my bank (just to keep the story straight, I called them on Friday). They tell me that they had no request for a new card. I flip out and demand they get on that shit, posthaste. She calmly informs me that she's going to Fed Ex me a new card, but that I won't get it until TUESDAY. Fine.

The next day (Saturday), I check my mail. Guess what's there?! Yep. Debit card. I am joyous, since it's Saturday and I might have to go spend some money somewhere. I call to activate it. The automated voice tells me that the card is unable to be activated, and I hold for a teller. I go through the same thing with the same result. She tells me to hang onto the card because she...

...I'm getting bored with telling this story, so I will just bare bones the rest of it:

Monday: Nothing. They'd told me not to call until I tried to use the card on Tuesday (remember: the Fed Exed card [the 2nd one] was supposed to show up on Tuesday)

Tuesday: 8:15 am. I try and use the card to get money from the coffeeshop across the street from my building. Nothing.

9:30am. I call the activation number AGAIN. Same message. I hold for an assistant. I go through the whole story of the Fed Exing card stuff, then the card showing up. She listens thoughtfully and tells me that the card I received on saturday was no good because it had been reported as lost (?!) and that she was going to transfer me to the ATM department.

9:40: I am transferred to a CUSTOMER SATISFACTION SURVEY. After the survey is complete, the fucker HANGS UP ON ME.

9:45: I call back and run through the story AGAIN and include being hung up on by the survey. She puts me on hold.

9:55: "They sent you a new card yesterday, via regular mail. You should get it by the end of the week". I ask her whether or not someone from Webster Bank (that's right, I SAID THE NAME OF THE BANK!) was going to come to my house and take me grocery shopping. She does not laugh.

12:00pm: Bill arrives with a Fed Ex letter for me. I laugh and laugh. Yep. My debit card. AND IT WORKS.

Sorry. That story was more elaborate and funnier if you were around me. Hah, I'm a loser. The bottom line is: Banks are slow and they don't really care if you can't have at your own money.

 

To make up for that stinker of a story, I'll end this on a happy not and tell you all that I'm getting my hair. My mom and grandmother and going to help me pay for it, and if you don't think I got all weepy about it, you are WRONG. Now, I have to think: how do I want my new hair to look?! DO I WANT BANGS?? DO I???

 

the other day - home - email - soon