Last night, after a game of nutball, I stepped on a piece of broken glass. The glass became lodged in my heel and blood flowed everywhere. I tried to take the glass out myself, but realized that I couldn’t seeing how I have the flexibility of Magnus Samuelsson. I decided to drink a lot of beer and deal with this the next morning.
I woke up and limped to the car this morning to see the Doctor. I get there and the first thing they do is ask me to fill out paperwork. I asked them if they wanted to know what’s wrong with me and they told me that the paperwork would give them everything they need. All the paperwork was was my insurance information! Basically you can’t get any medical attention without providing it upfront. I could’ve walked in their with a gunshot wound and would’ve still receiving the same level of compassion. What a bunch of shit.
So I sit down, complete the paperwork, and eventually I’m called in. Three nurses later, the Doctor comes in and takes the glass out of my foot. It took him 3 minutes. 3 fucking minutes! I waited forever, had to fill out unnecessary forms, get accosted by three different nurses, all for a doctor to spend three minutes taking out the glass.
Now I know there are systems in place for a reason to deal with shit, but come on, you really can’t create one where I tell you who I am and what’s wrong with me BEFORE you take my insurance? Worst thing is – they made me pay upfront! What if shit didn’t turn out rosey for me and I wasn’t OK to walk out of there with the glass out of my foot? Do I get my money back? How does this refund shit work? Is my refund kicking the entire staff who helped me out in the ass? Maybe a Golden Shower would do.
This rant is really centered around the fact that I stepped on glass and had to deal with paperwork before I had anything done. It pails in comparison to the bigger problem with health care – having a system where everyone has access to it.
Now I hate talking politics as much as I hate people who talk in the third person, but isn’t the reason we elect these crooked fuckers (politicians) to represent us is to, wait, what, represent us?!? Why can’t they figure out a way to make the health care system more efficient? Why can’t they find a way to give everyone health care without levying more taxes on the middle class? Why? I’m tired of hearing bullshit excuses.
You know, maybe the Native Americans had shit right. Too bad we had to go and fuck up their way of life. I tell you I’d be a big fan of spending my days hunting, fishing, and banging my squaw for the good of the tribe. Wouldn’t you?
Whatever your position is on this debate/rant/post, you can agree to a few things:
- Doctor’s offices suck in general
- Native Americans had a cool way of life
- Politicians suck
Thank you. That is all.
Commenting
Dear Readers,
First of all, thank you for reading our blogsite. You have many other ones to choose from, but we the Captain’s thank you. Obviously you must think we have something enlightening to share with you.
During our last business meeting, Captain’s Yar, Flintheart, and myself asked ourselves a fairly straightforward question – how come no one gives a shit anymore to comment on our posts? Do they suck? Are they not worth commenting on?
The thing is, I’m forced to read the “PG” rated blogs of my local newspaper every single day at work because it’s one of the only web sites, along with CNN, that I can escape to for some down time. Let me tell you, these blogs suck ass, but they are full of comments. I don’t get it. We introduced chooglin’, have written about Kelly Kapowski, and even given you amazing YouTube videos and we’re not getting comments. Now given the a newspaper web site will have a higher readership than us that covers serious and non-popular topics as well, but fuck ‘em – we’re still better.
Even while you don’t comment, we still plan on writing. Our numbers are actually going up, but it makes us dumbfounded and unmotivated to come up with some good stuff. The shit spewing out of our minds lately, while decent, is not as good as stuff from the Golden Age circa June/July.
So I guess this little message to you readers is WHY THE FUCK DON’T YOU COMMENT?? If it’s not your thing, I get it because I just do. If you just don’t want to, go fuck yourself. If you think I’m mental and want to beat me with a dress shoe or Ugg boot, take a number.
Your friend,
Captain Polish