Wednesday, March 1, 2006

Things You Learn With A Bad Back - Volume 11

Well I know I have proclaimed this thread OVER twice already but I was alerted yesterday by the human resources director that the genius that has been placed in charge of my recovery on behalf of the insurance company, nurse Whatsername who I haven’t talked to since I told her hat she was a joke, has determined that I will be finished with therapy on Friday, and then proclaimed cured by Dr Quack on Wednesday. I personally think this is a miracle as I have been feeling so much worse over the last few weeks, and the person in charge of my physical therapy specifically told her that I am not only never going to be 100%, but if she continues to force me into oppressive therapies I will get worse. Her true job as “interpreter” is even confusing to me at times like this as she takes plain English and translates it into HMO, and then takes HMO and translates it into total bullshit. So I have devised a few theories on how the recovery acceleration process is actually going to take place this week. Before I begin, I am also rather disappointed that if the doctor is finally going to cure me of a severely herniated and ruptured disk in my lower back, the asshole should at least do it 3 days sooner as a birthday gift, but his agenda, like his intelligence has always been in question anyway.

First off this is going to require my last day at therapy on Friday, to go something like this. Veronica will wear something extra sexy so that all of the “blood flow” will leave my back and proceed to congregate in my front. This will leave an ample opportunity for my Physical Therapist to sprinkle the magic fairy dust onto my injured back {and if you met my Physical Therapist you would have NO doubt in your mind that he probably has a very accessible source for anything from a fairy} thus softening up the aggravated area. Veronica will then turn me down yet again, as the trend seems to go 3 times a week. The blood flow will leave the area that it had located itself during the process {and of course it will turn it’s usual shade of blue and painful} and as the blood rushes back to my throbbing back {as apposed to throbbing front} it will sink all of the magic fairy dust into the problem area. Phase one has been accomplished.

Phase 2 will have to wait until I can see Doctor Quack, who will finally show why the diploma on his wall says University of Haiti, as he shows up with the traditional garb of the type of doctor I have known him to be all along, which is a head dress, and a necklace of human finger bones. He will wave the traditional “shrunken head” in the air as he dances around me in circles and chanting things about Jobu, and probably ask me if I brought the chicken for the sacrifice. I listen to Coast to Coast AM after all, I know all about these things, so I will make sure that I pick one up on the way. I will have to draw the line at the part where he chains me to the wall and whacks me repeatedly with the bamboo canes, as I am not that type of boy {at least on the first date, and he would have to buy me dinner first} so I assume that this will probably be the loophole that the insurance company will finally have to get out of paying for my medical treatments. The insanity of all of this is endless.

Through all of this I have been such a good little soldier, simply trying to get from the point of being injured to the point of getting past it. The most despicable things that go on in all of this could be put in a humorous light at times but realistically my ability to support my children has been on the line throughout all of this and lately I haven’t even humored these people. The sad part is that the insurance company is such a bureaucracy and corporate entity that the woman who has been handling this claim only just recently realized that she has had it pretty good with me. The reason I know this is she was officially the first woman I ever called the “C” word over the phone a few weeks ago, and she feigned the most amazing shock and indignation for about 2 minutes until I said “Why don’t you counter sue me for it while I have you in court for denial of services, and jeopardizing my well being, which as I finally read up on it, is a felony in the State of New Hampshire. The landmark case that put it in the books actually put the insurance agent in prison for 6 months,” which changed her tune and attitude immediately. To think, I called this woman the “C” word and she is being a human being to me for the first time in the history of our conversations. I guess she DOES do the “chained and beaten with a bamboo cane on the first date” thing. The nurse on the other hand is still the insanity device that I need to deal with next. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt for now, but if this doesn’t work, that fucking bitch is going to reimburse me for the chicken at the very least, and perhaps clean the chicken poop out of my car ;8o)

Have a question you want answered? Feel free to ask this sicko! Post any question you want Jeremy Crow to answer in the comments section of this blog and he will answer it totally honestly and to the best of his ability A.S.A.P. {One Question & One Answer per Blog, and no answers will be given to things that will harm others!}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. JC~

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