michaeljr915 (michaeljr915) wrote,
michaeljr915
michaeljr915

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Today -is- Weds, right?

Woke up around 7.
And I have very little idea what I did after that up til I went downstairs for Tylenol and breakfast around 10. My headache was just that bad.
Reading, comics, message boards, job hunting, hell, I don't know. I do know what I didn't do, and that was sleep. Or masturbate. Or eat. Anyway.
Today I'm at an all time high for non-sequitors.

On Tuesday I took dad to his appointment, but the doctor screwed up and penned in her book for NEXT Tuesday, instead of the 9th, as she told us.
So we're on our way out, preceding a drug company rep, and Dad decides to move aside to let the guy out.
And promptly falls off the porch!
Fell six-eight feet to the ground, landing on his butt and back. Scratched up a couple fingers, broke a couple nails, abraded his elbow.

He's okay, if a bit sore.

Had a fun EQ night roleplaying.

Back to today.
So this headache, right. Didn't start to go away til 3ish. So then I felt pretty good up til my sister decided to drag my ass downstairs to 'entertain' a buddy of my dad's who came over to visit.
So I got to sit there listening to the guy talk about cars (which I kinda don't know a whole lot about) for over 45 minutes waiting for my brother to get home with my dad... and my sister's making dinner, and mom came home, and brother came home, and everybody's smoking, and my headache came rushing back, and only in the last half hour has it started to ebb a bit because I'm in the mostly-fresh air of my room.

Dad called the folks who rent him his wheelchair via Medicare today. He has two options. Buy the chair, for which Medicare will pay 3 months rent, which is equal to the purchase price. Or, rent it still, for which Medicare pays 'five months rent, and one month twice a year maintenance.' Which made no sense to any of us, so Dad called up the place for confirmation, and apparently, it means that they're going to cover it for a year.
And mom yelled at me for not knowing the answer when I didn't talk to the frigging guy. He wouldn't talk to anyone but my dad. Damned HIPA laws.
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