Yesterday, I visited my pill pusher (psychologist). I was afraid he was going to change my cocktail, and I was in a bit of a panic. Luckily, nothing changed and I can continue on my road to recovery.
A sense of humor has also become a necessity for me to navigate through my life.
I spend time each day, observing everything around me in order to find something beautiful, or something to laugh about. Photography has also taught me to observe small details I used to ignore.
Some of the funny, pleasant, and shocking things that happened yesterday were worthy of sitting at my computer while I’m supposed to be doing something else. I suppose the reader will decide if it is worth their time to read my post instead of doing what they are supposed to be doing. 😀
On the route to the pill pusher, there is a cute little business in the style of a little cottage. I always admire the cottage because it’s like my dream house with the white picket fence and all. However, I finally discovered the business is a Bail Bonds office. On the front porch is a larger-than-life-sized Betty Boop, complete with a prison stripe uniform. And I thought Betty was smarter than that. 😉 It also kind of shattered my dream of the cottage with the picket fence, but I laughed out loud.
At another intersection–if I can paint a good enough picture–the road had four lanes. The far left lane was for left-turns only, the far right was for right-turns only. The middle two lanes were for straight ahead movement. I was first in line, in one of the straight ahead lanes, waiting for the light to change. An older gentleman from the far left-hand-only-turn-lane, crossed in front of me and the car in the next lane, in order to get into the right-hand-only-lane. I suppose he may have had his right and left mixed up?
Oh, my. I am so glad the person driving up the right-hand-only-lane was paying attention, because I may have been caught up in a t-bone accident situation. But I laughed at the craziness of this driver because even I would never be that crazy.
I’m always pleased when visiting my pill pusher’s place of business. The painted lines for parking stalls are wide enough for a regular sized car–even large enough for the people driving the huge SUVs. I’m able to maneuver my car in order to park within the lines, and still have room to get out of the car. Bonus point of pleasure for the day.
Now–here’s the cherry on top of my day’s story. While waiting to see the doctor, I had a conversation with the receptionist. We were discussing my bill and the lateness of my insurance company for doing what they are supposed to be doing.
Our conversation wandered off to the ridiculous costs of various medical tests done via machines–like the mammogram. She received a bill for $8000.00 US dollars for her mammogram. We commiserated over the crap we have to put up with.
I shared my story of the charge from my radiologist, aka CANCER CENTER– because they have to remind us with huge letters over the parking lot, unless we forget where we are. The imaging center always tries to entice me with a flat payment, so that the bill for the CT scan wouldn’t have to be submitted through our insurance company. Ha! What they want me to pay is hundreds of dollars over the cost our insurance company covers—they receive more money that way, since insurance companies decide what a reasonable price would be for various medical treatments.
Anyway, after the receptionist’s inquisitive look, and question why I would have a CT scan instead of a mammogram, I explained that I had cancer.
Here it is……
I was in a Psychologist’s office….
…..she asked if I had had a brain tumor.
omgarsh! Even though I had to control laughing my silly head off because I didn’t want to embarrass her, I responded that it was lung cancer.
Next question from her—do you smoke?
Not so funny, but I’m getting used to it, if I share that part of my life with someone.
I’m not going to cover all the statics in this post, but I do have a few. One of the many articles I have read, 6.9% of smokers will develop lung cancer. Not 100%, not 69%.
There is also a good percentage of non-smokers who develop lung cancer–and it isn’t 1% of the lung cancers diagnosed. I have read various articles which put the number around 30% of the lung cancers diagnosed, the people have NEVER smoked. To me, 30% is a large number, and one to consider when asking if a lung cancer patient smoked or not.
But—it was my cancer diagnosis that prodded me, once and for all, to take control of my mental health.
I have to share a better experience which did, in fact, entice me to do a happy dance–I must have burst my eardrum while blowing my nose. While my ear is still blocked, the pain went away. Yahoo!