Monday, October 9, 2006

Father Knows *CRAP*

I don't talk too much about my fam I suppose even though they are a huge part of my life, mostly because I don't live at home. Well, except maybe Mom because we go to Water Aerobics together and she is a little over-stressed with this sickness thing. But Dad... well, yeah. He's my DAD and we don't get along. Anyway...

I am sure there are at least 15 books about how my Dad loves me. (I just sort of... ummm... hate him... for it.) Stuff about Languages of Love and Mars and Venus. Stuff about how my dad just wants to FIX things, even things that HE can't fix! He's a Property Manager. So we've got "a guy" for plumbing, "a car guy," "yard guys," "a guy" for taxes... and apparently my dad suddenly felt the need for an MRI "guy."

So my appointment's for late this afternoon and I am in bed asleep at last when my dad comes in my house yelling "Get up right now! You're late!"
"Mmmfhahfhmm...ferWhah?"
"A guy in our ward is a radiologist. He's going to work you in. But you have to be there now.""
"Dad, I can't!"
"You have to. Get going now!"
So I'm already panicked because I HATE MRIS and my dad is pushing me out the door while I barely combed through my hair that I planned to have washed before going and downing one of the 8 pills I was due to take in the morning and checking into a hospital for "a guy dad knows" and then spent so long in the waiting room to be "squeezed in" that I was there UNTIL my actual APPOINTMENT at the other hospital but which my dad insisted they cancel. "Radiology. I know a guy."

The actual MRI was both scarier and not as scary as I thought. It was like a Space Coffin! That part I got over pretty quick. But the contrast and injection and the following panic attack and the fight I got in with my dad when I did not OBEY him when he insisted I stop panicking immediately. (Yeah. THAT works. Yell at me in a space coffin. Thanks.)

It one of those things I would probably laugh at if it wasn't still making me cry and scaring me and hurting me.

And seriously. Radiology.

Dads of the world, you do not need a "Radiology Guy."


You just DON'T.

4 comments:

  1. Mfrhsrkrrmmma. I TOTALLY understand (though we both know my anxiety stems from my mother more than my father). I'm sorry that in his efforts to help you he hurts you. Or at least freaks you out unnecessarily.

    I hope that whatever the radiologist guy did helps matters. 'Cause that would be uber-lame if it didn't. Lame and a total reflection on your dad.

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  2. Aww man!! He has an interesting way of showing his love for you, eh? Maybe your mom could have a chat with him since she may know how to phrase it so it really sinks in for him?

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  3. Dude, those pictures of your brain don't look very good. You ever heard of a brain cloud?

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