HP is being discharged from the hospital today. Please don’t ask me how because I really don’t know. They seem to think he has done the impossible. I wouldn’t put it past him.
JFC there’s another gas leak in our city and my boss and his fiancee had to evacuate.
What the entire hell is going on here.
Alright, there are a bunch of kids without means on my nephew’s little league team
They won the state championship and are scheduled to go to the Little League Regional World Series next weekend. There are 12 or 13 kids who need hotel rooms and stuff. Louisiana to North Carolina is a long way.
My BIL is doing a fundraiser but there isn’t a link. If you have Venmo and want to send these kids to the World Series and can find Damon-Harrington-1, that’s the fundraiser. I tried to get them to do this in a more internet friendly way, but it was too late.
TOILET THANK CHRIST
More in texts to friendlord.
Texts to friendlord right now.
I really need friendlord to come fix my toilet because I only have, like, one toilet and it isn’t working. And I have a lot of stomach problems. One toilet versus a lot of stomach problems is better than zero toilets versus a lot of stomach problems. But he doesn’t usually get home from work until a little later because he works way across town.
Hoooo boy, hurry up.
I’m doing very badly with eating. I know I’m going to faint if I don’t start doing better. I had half a hamburger slider yesterday and worked a 17 hour day, sort of. I woke up with a horrible charley horse and I know that’s why. I didn’t even have a hot dog at the game. I always have a hot dog.
I have absolutely got to force myself to eat and I’m not good at it.
I’m a stress non-eater.
I just made a deal with an old friend of mine. We are both struggling and we are both always struggling because we never feel like we’re doing enough to help literally everyone.
I told her if she goes back to tennis, I’ll go back to ballet. Because we don’t think about our failures when we’re doing those things. The problem is that she already has a tennis date and I don’t have a ballet one.
I guess I can do it by myself. I mean, fuck it.
I’m going to the Brewers game tomorrow and long story short, it’s for work. A coworker/friend is also going, but she doesn’t have any Brewers gear so today I brought her some of my extra stuff in case she wants to wear it. One thing is a skirt HP got me. It’s made out of old Brewers t-shirts. It sounds horrible, but it’s actually super cute. The only reason I’m not going to wear it is that I can never figure out what to wear it with in the summertime.
She looked at the size tag and said, “why did he buy you a large?” Then I had to explain how HP doesn’t know that women’s clothes have sizes. It’s got a drawstring waist, so it doesn’t matter anyway, but she got a pretty big kick out of HP’s complete ignorance about yet another thing you would think everyone just knows.
Physics genius fluent in Russian does not equal common sense.
I’m sure people smarter than I am already knew this, but this is a passage from Madeleine Albright’s book Fascism: A Warning. It’s about Mussolini.
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I’m guessing HP is not a model patient.
He is nice to the hospital staff, but constantly asking if he can do things they've already told him he can't do. He thinks he knows everything. That has always caused problems for him. He knows lots of stuff. But not everything.
Things that occurred last night at the hospital with THE most frustrating and stubborn man who happens to be my boyfriend:
A nurse told HP (AGAIN) that he can’t have beef unless it’s well done because he’s on a neutropenic diet.
Ten minutes later, HP is begging me to go get him some beef that isn’t well done. I wouldn’t do it and he got mad at me. He kept insisting it would be fine to get it from a particular restaurant because he “knows” how they cook their meat.
First of all, he doesn’t “know” shit about how anyone cooks anything. Please trust me on that.
Secondly, I worked at a steakhouse for like four years. I know what well done beef looks like and I know what temperature it’s supposed to be.
He kept arguing with me until I finally said: “it is LITERALLY your funeral if you eat underdone meat.” He responds with, “at my funeral, they will be serving RAW MEAT.” I said, “yeah, well, they don’t typically serve food at an actual funeral, you big beast.” Then he called me a beast.
Then his mom came into the room, and I said, “do you want me to tell your mom what you just did?”
It has been three days since his transplant and he’s already trying to die over some meat. Not on my watch.
I got one of those pillows you use in college that kind of make you sit up and have arms. Because it almost feels like I’m lying against someone who is holding me.
I’m pathetic.
I told HP I’m bringing an ice chest to the hospital today. In this hospital, you can’t get your own ice or even go to the bathroom on the same damn floor his room is on and you have to pay out of your ass for parking (and it’s not cheap). About 1.5 people can fit in his room at a time. It’s almost like they don’t want people to visit. Is this the best hospital in the state? Yes. Is it where he needs to be? Yes. Does he have to sometimes wait an hour if he wants some ice? Yes. Do I have to go to another floor to pee every 30 minutes? Yes. Do they have better hospital food? Well, yes. But you have to walk about 2 miles to get to the cafeteria. Is his room the size of a closet? Yes. Does he have to be there for at least five more weeks? Yes.
So I just talked to him and told him I’d be there a little later today than I originally planned because I washed my shower curtain and it’s taking longer to dry than expected. And he said, “I don’t understand why you’re bringing an ice chest. That seems a little bit silly.” I told him it’s because they never bring him ice when he asks for it and that his mom and I otherwise have to pay $1.25 any time we want a Diet Dr. Pepper if we don’t bring our own (I share a DDP obsession with his mom), not to mention 10 billion dollars for parking. And then he was like, “yeah, actually, please bring an ice chest.”
I’m gonna get the ice from Sonic. You know they sell ice at Sonic? The good kind?
I prefer the other hospital he was in before. They can’t do transplants there. They are not as highly regarded as the one he’s in now. But the overall experience at the hospital he’s in now is total crap. I wish I could take the doctors, food, and knowledge from the current hospital over to the previous one. There, we could get ice and Cokes and snacks any time we wanted just by walking down the hall. I don’t think a cancer patient should have to wait an hour or more for a damn cup of ice.
aka14kgold replied to your photoset: This morning since no one else is awake, I got...
Geez. And still, only one fatality. Amazing.
Definitely amazing. When I saw the intersection from the side opposite of where I took those pictures, I still couldn't believe hundreds weren't dead.