Boss sent me home at noon. He says I’m of no benefit, making gel runs through tears. Says that I have his sympathy, but I need to get it together. Go home, make a doctor appointment before my scheduled appointment. I did. I can’t get in sooner than the 22end. Ridiculous, since my consultation appointment is the 19th. What am I going to do? The pain is unbearable, and I just have one-half of a Lortab left. Doctor Asshole won’t call me in any pain relief. Told me to take Tylenol. I said I was taking that. He told me to lose weight. Um, fuck you.

I called Keith back and asked him what should I do? I can’t get any pain relief, I can’t go to the ED because I have an existing balance there, and I can’t get an appointment until waaay after the already scheduled physical. He said not to worry; he was not planning on replacing me, just focus on getting well. That would be great, if I could do that. Right now all I can think of is the pain in my cheek, the pain in my leg, and the pain radiating across my abdomen. What’s worse than the pain is the despair; I cannot see relief in sight at all. I just lay in bed sobbing or sitting at the table, sobbing. Tylenol masks the pain for ten minutes, and I find myself reaching for another dose, despite the fact that I am at the limit of safe doses.

My doctor is a paradox. He says I have liver failure, but he will not provide me with pain relief beyond Tylenol. Take Tylenol, take Tylenol, take Tylenol! That’s all I ever hear from him! Tylenol only works for a few minutes! So he tells me to take more! Um, if I take more, that’s going to advance the liver failure! He says no. Whatever. No one knows more than him, right? After all, weight loss is a cure-all for him. Asshole. I want a new doctor. And I want one now. Stupid insurance won’t let me have one, though, and no other doctors here will take me on, for some strange reason.