Rant Regarding Annoyances (Probably pt. 1 of Several)

Ok. So. I rant quite frequently both in my head and aloud about some of the most minute annoyances that just piss me the fuck off!

For instance, there’s this one lady in particular who comes into my room in the morning with a scale and says “Alright, hun, gotta get your weight”… like no, really? You come in here like every damn morning with a FUCKING SCALE…???? And you’re gonna take my weight? Who the hell could have guessed that??? Jesus. Ugh. But as much as it annoys me, I can’t help but feel bad because she’s just doing her job, and she’s not a bad person, nor has she ever wronged me or even remotely been rude. I guess it’s just the way she goes about it that just bugs the living shit out of me. I think it’s impossible for me to just have those sassy remarks and then not feel bad and realize that the people who annoy me aren’t really doing anything wrong, you know? I feel like that’s necessary to say haha, I mean, I can be an asshole with the best of ’em, but really. Being in the hospital for as long as I have been/am, there are just certain people that rub me the wrong way so to speak. By no fault of their own, it’s just kinda the way things go.

That said (I feel better getting that part out of my system so now maybe I can unapologetically plow through more shit that annoys me, hoping you are all aware that yes, I actually do appreciate the work people do and I do realize they’re just doing their job…. and fucking annoying me at the same damn time 😉 ) I will continue with more little things that just drive me absolutely batshit crazy.

The same lady who comes in with the scale and informs me that she needs to take my weight (ok, I know I’m on the pediatric unit, but like I’m fuckin’ 22, I can piece simple things together and figure out why you’re here!) also sometimes comes in in the afternoon/sometime during my transfusions when I get them and says “Alright, hun, gotta get a set of vitals” and again, it’s like you’re the fucking tech, lady, I know what you do and I know why the fuck you’re here! I’m a pretty smart person, even with chemo brain, but good lord! I FUCKING KNOW WHY YOU’RE HERE! And then after she records my blood pressure, heart rate and pulse ox she get the thermometer and says “ok hun, gotta take your temp”




Like…. holy shit! I FUCKING KNOW!!!!! I KNOW!!!! Just… don’t say words… please… ugh. UGH! Fucking UGH! Lady… please. Just… shhhh. I really kinda (no, not even kinda, I just straight up want to)  wanna stare at her and say “shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhut the fuck up” as I press my index finger to her lips in an attempt to seal them shut. As my little brother (henceforth referred to as “lil bitch”) would say, “know why you have a mouth? So you can shut it.”

Whew! Gosh this is so therapeutic it’s not even funny! What next, what next? I know there is plenty that just gets me going.

Ok, so, there’s basically a new medical student who does rounds every couple of weeks (the days all bleed together when you live here like I do, so who knows, maybe it’s the same one for a month? Whatever. The point is that they change every so often) and we get a pretty wide mix of characters. One of the ones that we have had is incredibly intelligent and I’m sure has a brilliant and successful career in their future. However (haha we all knew this was coming!) they are a little bit… awkward. Which is fine because, hell, I’m about as awkward as you can get, plus I’m bald so I’m just kinda of a walking ball of unfortunate haha. So anyway, this student will come in and (this is an everyday occurrence) be like “alright, gotta listen to your heart and lungs”…


Oh really? Whoa, total shocker right there! I thought we were gonna play patty cake or braid each other’s hair (wait…). And then, usually after I inspect the inside of my head (that’s long hand for rolling my eyes) at my mom or dad (I would probably not do that where the other person could see, you know, I give zero fucks but I try to still be considerate!) I take like eight deep breaths, and EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. The stethoscope moves to a new location the student will say “deep breath” or “and another” and it’s like… I know how this works, dude. I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I’m kinda a big kid. This isn’t my first rodeo, and, fuck, we’ve been doing the same drill every day for how long now?? And then after the deep breaths they’ll be like “alright, gotta listen to your heart” (no fuck) and then “alright, gotta listen to the belly” (wanna see my surprised face??) I have no idea why that whole thing bothers me so much haha but seriously, it just pisses me off! Not to mention that prior to this inspection the student kind of hangs around the room awkwardly, almost like a leaf about to blow off of a tree branch– trembling, uncomfortable. Trying to make small talk, but it’s like, ok I know why you’re here so let’s just get this shit done and then we can both move on with our days. So usually after an hour of talking (by hour I mean five minutes of brutally rough, choppy conversation) they’ll grab at their stethoscope which they’d been fiddling with almost like an unasked question that wants to just burst out and end the awkward, and begin the whole assessment. By the way, usually I’m alive. I know why they listen to everything, though, but it does get super fucking annoying. Like, I might have done this whole cancer thing twice but I’m 98% confident that I am alive. And if Dr. Katie says she’s alive, she’s fucking alive.

Anyway. When the inspection is over and it’s found that I am in fact still alive (again, yeah, I know what they’re listening for!) they fiddle with their stethoscope again, like it was some type of Harry Potter portkey that could whisk them out of the suffocatingly uncomfortable situation and deposit them elsewhere. So, after another hour of forced conversation with honestly feigned interest, they’ll leave. It’s kind of like they don’t pick up that it’s ok for them to leave. Like they can’t really grasp when a conversation is over and they can move on, which is fine… except for when it’s not according to my standards haha. Sometimes I feel like I need to straight up be like “Alright, cool, thanks, you’re dismissed”. Maybe that would be too subtle, I’d have to try something more like… well, I dunno. Fuck.

It’s typically on my sort of “off” days– my “meh” days– that these things really irk me. But something else that get really fucking old is whenever I get chemo/blood/other stuff… and the nurses always have to ask me for my name and birthday. I know and understand why they have to have me do that, but I’d be lying through my damn teeth if I said it didn’t get obnoxious. It’s like– you fucking know me! You know this is me, and I am the person who is to be receiving this stuff! Just give it to meeeeeeeeeeee! Don’t make me repeat for the bajillionth time my name and birthday. PLEASE. 

I think it’s probably pretty safe to say that during this whole “Cancer” chapter of my life– from September 29th 2015 up until today– I have probably said my name and birthday well over several hundred times. I was contemplating making a shirt sometime and just wearing that. Maybe a tattoo would also work. Boy am I excited to see how many more times I get to say the same information before I can finally conclude the “Cancer Chapter” of my life.

The possibilities are endless.

Wanna make a bet?

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