(Torn between [vent] and [story]. Flipped a coin.)
A good month ago I took a day off for today.
I had an invintation for today to go to yet another neurologist for "a neurological examination". Turns out it was just another interrogation. The good doctor asked why I'm so nerevous, to which I replied, reasonably, I believe, "I'm afraid it might not work as well as intended."
Rough translation.
This satisfied the doctor, at which point he proceeded to interrogate me about my life and kept telling me to "tell more about yourself". When asked for a bit of clarification, he replied "just anything you can think of."
After me failing to produce interesting information on my own, the good doctor finally started directing me into his interests. All went swimmingly (ignoring the fuckloads of auras, and me ending up asking for a break for a smoke and a trip to the bathroom) until the good doctor produced a yes/no questionnaire.
Without doubt, the biggest questionnaire I've ever seen in my life: 516 questions.
Five. Hundred. And sixteen.
Six of those questions were variants of "do you want to ctb?", and one of them was "I haven't told anybody, but I want to ctb."
As in, "is this correct or not?"
I answered "no", which is technically true (the best kind of true), but the question now lurks in my mind: if I, or anybody else were to decide to ctb and not tell anybody, why would they admit it to this guy?
Out of all people, this guy would be the worst possible candidate to admit such a thing to! He'd summon the White Coats!
He already saw me going through some sort of anxiety-based meltdown (I discovered that, if anxious/terrified enough, I will change my accent to some kind of Arabic accent without noticing. Curious.), auras all over the place, shivering, and I ended up asking him about the White Coats in the end.
As to why I'm curious, I said it's one of my nightmares.
In the end I was released without problem with a bit of extra info on my file.
And of course, as it turns out, this is yet another fucking postponing of the surgery. I STILL have to go through a pre-surgery before the surgery. Unless they pull yet another thing out of their asses.
Marching on is getting more and more difficult.
A good month ago I took a day off for today.
I had an invintation for today to go to yet another neurologist for "a neurological examination". Turns out it was just another interrogation. The good doctor asked why I'm so nerevous, to which I replied, reasonably, I believe, "I'm afraid it might not work as well as intended."
Rough translation.
This satisfied the doctor, at which point he proceeded to interrogate me about my life and kept telling me to "tell more about yourself". When asked for a bit of clarification, he replied "just anything you can think of."
After me failing to produce interesting information on my own, the good doctor finally started directing me into his interests. All went swimmingly (ignoring the fuckloads of auras, and me ending up asking for a break for a smoke and a trip to the bathroom) until the good doctor produced a yes/no questionnaire.
Without doubt, the biggest questionnaire I've ever seen in my life: 516 questions.
Five. Hundred. And sixteen.
Six of those questions were variants of "do you want to ctb?", and one of them was "I haven't told anybody, but I want to ctb."
As in, "is this correct or not?"
I answered "no", which is technically true (the best kind of true), but the question now lurks in my mind: if I, or anybody else were to decide to ctb and not tell anybody, why would they admit it to this guy?
Out of all people, this guy would be the worst possible candidate to admit such a thing to! He'd summon the White Coats!
He already saw me going through some sort of anxiety-based meltdown (I discovered that, if anxious/terrified enough, I will change my accent to some kind of Arabic accent without noticing. Curious.), auras all over the place, shivering, and I ended up asking him about the White Coats in the end.
As to why I'm curious, I said it's one of my nightmares.
In the end I was released without problem with a bit of extra info on my file.
And of course, as it turns out, this is yet another fucking postponing of the surgery. I STILL have to go through a pre-surgery before the surgery. Unless they pull yet another thing out of their asses.
Marching on is getting more and more difficult.
