Dear Nurse:
I regret having to discuss such a sensitive matter with you, but you've left me little choice. When asking a patient to disrobe ENTIRELY for an exam, it is uncouth to follow the request with "Let's see if the curtains match the drapes, eh?"
Furthermore, staring at the discussed area of my body after I undress was unnecessary and kind of disturbing. Your "I guess we'll never know," was even more inappropriate and added an extra dose of humiliation to what was already an unforgettable fiasco. Look lady, it's SUMMER TIME. That which has been removed has zero chance of making a surprise appearance when I'm wearing a swim suit. Not that it's any of your farking business, thank you very much.
I may have survived the appointment, but my pride was not so lucky. By the way, how exactly did removing my pants facilitate the examination of my armpit?
Still mortified,
The beet red patient who officially hates Mondays..and now, maybe nurses
Showing posts with label what the fuck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what the fuck. Show all posts
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
An Open Letter to the Neighbor Lady
Dear Neighbor Lady,
Congratulations!! You've out done yourself! I thought I'd lost all respect for you last autumn, when I discovered that you were raking the fallen leaves in your yard onto a tarp and dumping them in the woods behind our house. However, I must have been wrong, because after today's stunt, I think even less of you.
I don't advertise this to the neighborhood, but sometimes when it looks like no one's home, I'm actually writing in my little office at the back of the house. Also, I'm not terribly social, nor do I like to be interrupted, so when you knocked on the door this afternoon, I didn't answer. I might have, if I'd recognized you, but the new haircut threw me off. By the way, I liked your old 'do better. This one doesn't flatter your face nearly as much.
Apparently you figured the unanswered knock meant that you were free to dig up whichever of my large, beautiful plants you wanted and transplant them into that empty soil patch you've been tilling and fertilizing for the last two weeks. Did you really think I wouldn't notice the plants that had suddenly gone missing from in front of my house had mysteriously relocated to the flowerbed in front of yours? I guess we'll never know, because although I didn't answer the door, I did peek out the window. When I saw you plunge your shovel into my hostas, I was on your ass faster than you're on your kid's when he forgets to hook your sprinkler up to your other neighbor's spout so that you don't have to pay to water your own grass.
Your excuse that the hostas you were going to remove "have a virus that will spread to the others" was creative, but I was less impressed with the patronizing tone you used when saying, "You know, like when we get sick and feel yucky?" I am not a small child and you would be wise not to speak to me as such. The hostas look perfectly healthy to me, though I admit I'm not an expert. I do spend a great deal of time gardening (and have for years) and I'm quite certain these plants are flourishing. However, just in case, I will have my mother, who is an expert, have a look at the "infected" ones. What saddens me the most is that I'm planning to spend the weekend dividing most of the larger plants, so I'm going to have a TON of extras I won't need. I would have happily given them ALL to you, because I really am neighborly and it would have been a pleasure to help you start your flowerbed. I'd still be glad to give them to you if you'd like them. I have a feeling that when I offer you will declare the virus cured.
Meanwhile, you should not come into my yard for any reason. This includes your daily habit of allowing your dogs to empty their bowels on my lawn and the tendency you and your son have to ride across my grass on your bikes. If your kid did it by himself, I wouldn't mind or blame him, he's a kid and I kinda like him. I once rode my bike across a neighbor's front lawn as a kid. Luckily, my father (you know, an adult) took the time to explain to me that such behavior was rude, especially given how much time and effort people put into making their grass look nice. It's a shame you were never taught that. If you had been, you might have avoided stepping in your dog's turd when your son fell off his bike in my yard last month. My ability to differentiate what comes out of your dogs' asses from what comes out of my own dog isn't magic. I pick up after my dog seconds after he finishes relieving himself, so I know any shit lying on the ground is courtesy of your pets. Thanks, I appreciate stepping in it when I mow.
You made a spectacular first impression on all of your neighbors when you went around bitching about the barking dogs shortly after you moved in and threatening to report our dogs to the city officials. Now that we don't leave our dogs outside unattended anymore, perhaps you've noticed what we already knew: the barking was coming from YOUR FUCKING DOGS. They bark incessantly, but perhaps by now you've grown accustomed to the noise and no longer hear it. I wish I could be so lucky.
One last thing, dear neighbor. I know it's hard to move new places and make friends, but going to each neighbor individually and gossiping to us about the others is probably not the way to increase your popularity. Believe it or not, you're going to have a hard time turning us against each other, seeing as we were all good friends way before you moved onto the block.
Look, I live here. I'd rather have peace than the endless drama you seem to have brought with you. Please settle down and play nicely with your neighbors. We'll be SO much more friendly to you if you do. I really want to like you. You're making it really, really, really hard.
Love, Your south neighbor
Congratulations!! You've out done yourself! I thought I'd lost all respect for you last autumn, when I discovered that you were raking the fallen leaves in your yard onto a tarp and dumping them in the woods behind our house. However, I must have been wrong, because after today's stunt, I think even less of you.
I don't advertise this to the neighborhood, but sometimes when it looks like no one's home, I'm actually writing in my little office at the back of the house. Also, I'm not terribly social, nor do I like to be interrupted, so when you knocked on the door this afternoon, I didn't answer. I might have, if I'd recognized you, but the new haircut threw me off. By the way, I liked your old 'do better. This one doesn't flatter your face nearly as much.
Apparently you figured the unanswered knock meant that you were free to dig up whichever of my large, beautiful plants you wanted and transplant them into that empty soil patch you've been tilling and fertilizing for the last two weeks. Did you really think I wouldn't notice the plants that had suddenly gone missing from in front of my house had mysteriously relocated to the flowerbed in front of yours? I guess we'll never know, because although I didn't answer the door, I did peek out the window. When I saw you plunge your shovel into my hostas, I was on your ass faster than you're on your kid's when he forgets to hook your sprinkler up to your other neighbor's spout so that you don't have to pay to water your own grass.
Your excuse that the hostas you were going to remove "have a virus that will spread to the others" was creative, but I was less impressed with the patronizing tone you used when saying, "You know, like when we get sick and feel yucky?" I am not a small child and you would be wise not to speak to me as such. The hostas look perfectly healthy to me, though I admit I'm not an expert. I do spend a great deal of time gardening (and have for years) and I'm quite certain these plants are flourishing. However, just in case, I will have my mother, who is an expert, have a look at the "infected" ones. What saddens me the most is that I'm planning to spend the weekend dividing most of the larger plants, so I'm going to have a TON of extras I won't need. I would have happily given them ALL to you, because I really am neighborly and it would have been a pleasure to help you start your flowerbed. I'd still be glad to give them to you if you'd like them. I have a feeling that when I offer you will declare the virus cured.
Meanwhile, you should not come into my yard for any reason. This includes your daily habit of allowing your dogs to empty their bowels on my lawn and the tendency you and your son have to ride across my grass on your bikes. If your kid did it by himself, I wouldn't mind or blame him, he's a kid and I kinda like him. I once rode my bike across a neighbor's front lawn as a kid. Luckily, my father (you know, an adult) took the time to explain to me that such behavior was rude, especially given how much time and effort people put into making their grass look nice. It's a shame you were never taught that. If you had been, you might have avoided stepping in your dog's turd when your son fell off his bike in my yard last month. My ability to differentiate what comes out of your dogs' asses from what comes out of my own dog isn't magic. I pick up after my dog seconds after he finishes relieving himself, so I know any shit lying on the ground is courtesy of your pets. Thanks, I appreciate stepping in it when I mow.
You made a spectacular first impression on all of your neighbors when you went around bitching about the barking dogs shortly after you moved in and threatening to report our dogs to the city officials. Now that we don't leave our dogs outside unattended anymore, perhaps you've noticed what we already knew: the barking was coming from YOUR FUCKING DOGS. They bark incessantly, but perhaps by now you've grown accustomed to the noise and no longer hear it. I wish I could be so lucky.
One last thing, dear neighbor. I know it's hard to move new places and make friends, but going to each neighbor individually and gossiping to us about the others is probably not the way to increase your popularity. Believe it or not, you're going to have a hard time turning us against each other, seeing as we were all good friends way before you moved onto the block.
Look, I live here. I'd rather have peace than the endless drama you seem to have brought with you. Please settle down and play nicely with your neighbors. We'll be SO much more friendly to you if you do. I really want to like you. You're making it really, really, really hard.
Love, Your south neighbor
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