mthor

Caesar Romero. Fight me

After I moved back to my home town, my spinster aunt decided that it would be great to type up all of Grandma's recipes (my job, because computer). No problem - just give me the recipes. But no. She has to copy them by hand and give them to me, because I won't be able to read Grandma's writing. (Bitch, please. At this point, I've been reading doctors' handwriting for like 30 years. Unless Grandma was writing in Rapa Nui pictographs or cuneiform, I can read it.) I'm a bit perplexed, but ok. She had changed the recipes. I know, because I had gotten a bunch of them straight from Grandma before she died,and my aunt had changed them. I don't know where she hid them. We couldn't even find them when we cleaned out her house after she went to the nursing home. But she had totally screwed up about half of them. True story: she died about seven years ago, and to this day, grass will not grow on her grave.

Yeah, yeah, get in line. Next you'll be telling me that I can't have them pick up smokes and beer for me.

Cap'n Crunch.

It's a little late for me to be concerned about what my children see on TV.

Yeah, but I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night.

🤯

Hey! I'm first. Get in line.

Docket. How did you get into college? How do you write papers?

How will you be it? You can't even spell it.

*Psych English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?

For what? Telling you how many ignorant you are?

He can tell the state if he wants to, but if the person he's telling the state about isn't on Medicaid, he's breaking HIPAA, and will lose his license.

Tell the state what, that I have NPD? Goddamn, you're dumb.

Don't stop him. I want to see what happens when he reports me for abusing my 38 and 35 year old children.

Why not now? If you're that concerned, report me now.

So you don't know. And you don't care, because if you actually saw a reportable situation, you wouldn't need to be mandated to report it. So. You're a poor student and a poor excuse for a human being. Got it. Thanks for clarifying.

Why don't you answer me? Is it because you can't? What are the responsibilities of a mandated reporter?

Tell us what it means. Otherwise, as a mandated reporter myself, I'm going to conclude that you don't know

It just hit me - you can't tell cluster B from STDs. Sorry, dude. Cluster Bs aren't required reporting.

If you were actually that concerned, you'd report now. You don't have to be mandated.

Oh, come on. You can talk about it. After all, we all float down here.

Went into Dexter's room to get a t shirt for him to tie dye, and found a half dozen empty Monster cans and diet Pepsi bottles tucked next to his bed, and the switch under his pillow. No wonder it's been so hard to get him up in the morning lately. I am too old for this.

The Viagra calls, the Cialis calls, starting Fridays, right after lunch. Usually, they were looking for samples, and although there was sometimes a bit of salt, most were polite if we couldn't accommodate them. One, however, called looking for an actual prescription. How refreshing! I get his name and birthdate to pull him up on the computer so that I can send a request to his provider. Lo and behold! He's nowhere to be found. I ask which provider he usually sees, and he tells me that he used to see Dr. X, who retired a few months ago. Dr X gave him Viagra for years, he says, but he's out, and doesn't have any refills. I'm sorry, I tell him. The providers can't just write a prescription for a patient they've never seen before and for whom they have no records (dude is in his 70's. Viagra is probably not the only thing he needs a script for.) If you'd like to establish with one of them, we have an NP and a physician who are currently taking new patients. I can set you up with an appointment. He hems and haws, but finally agrees. Bear in mind, this is a Friday afternoon, probably around 2 - 2:30. The office closes at 5. I check the computer, and find an available appointment on the following Thursday. (He's actually pretty lucky, because a new patient visit requires a longer block of time, and it can sometimes be a wait of a few weeks or a month before we can book one.) I offer him the appointment and he goes through the roof. "I can't get one today? This is an emergency!" There follows a five minute (I timed him) diatribe about the state of health care in America, especially as it relates to his personal life and convenience, my rudeness and stupidity because I won't comply with his request and give him a prescription (sorry, sir, I have the wrong initials after my name) or badger one of the providers into doing it (sorry, sir, they need to see you first), and how we're all just about money. Then he ends with "There's going to be a lot of disappointed ladies out there because of you! I hope you're happy!" I still don't know if he had delusions of grandeur, or if he was the guy who was responsible for the chlamydia outbreak at the retirement village.

I'm glad Pepperidge Farms remembers, because I don't.