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...i don't know where i got pink eye...

all i know is i got pink eye, and the first thing everyone asks is "how did you get pink eye?"  which may be the second dumbest question right next to when you lose something and some dope asks "did you look in the last place you saw it?" did i get pink eye? if i'm going to reply "it must have been the other day when i was rubbing poop in my eye".  you get pink eye from touching something that has the germ or whatever and then rubbing your eye.  so let's ask ourselves what's a conservative estimate on how many times we rub our eyes over the course of a day...two dozen?  more?  then how many things do we touch before rubbing our eyes?  24 bizillion? so i don't know how i got pink eye. aside from that stupid question i got an even worse response from my friend who said 



"you don't have health insurance!"

i know that, why is it awesome?

"because you're going to have to go through a whole bunch of crap to get fixed and it's going to be an awesome blog"




now aside from the obviously irritating element that these blogs have turned into people rooting for bad things to happen to is irritating that this guy WHO KNOWS ME PERSONALLY AND HAS MY PHONE going to wait and read the blog to find out what happened.

there is something wrong there and i'm not sure exactly what. 

so yeah, i got pink eye and as i went through the ordeal of trying to getting checked out without health insurance and having absurd and irritating things happen to me along the way (that would make an excellent blog) a cold chill ran down my spin, i heard my friends voice "it's going to be an awesome blog"  my trials and suffering just get translated into entertainment for him and you and he all wait eagerly for bad things to befall me so i can retell them in my own cynical entertaining way.  the cold chill struck when i thought to myself "what if God is thinking the same thing as my friend?"




this thought worries me because If the big guy himself is amused by me getting jerked around it would explain a lot and mean that i'm in for a long life.  

on the way to the hospital i started getting the shakes.  i get them sometimes and usually a fist full of sugar makes them go away.  if i had health insurance i'd have someone tell me what that means.  but i decide i'd better get some candy fast because i'm also getting light headed.  i go to a cvr and go up to the cash register with my candy and as soon as i pay i stuff some in my mouth so i don't fall over.  the cashier looks at me not with concern but...sort i am walking around with my zipper open or something.  that is when i realize i have big puffy red eyes and am feverishly eating from the largest bag of sour patch kids ever.   i was in her eyes, clearly stoned out of my mind and me lightheadedly stumbling away only drove the point home.

that was the best impression i left on people the entire day.  it only went down hill from there as grown men in scrubs and brightly colored pajama tops with clip boards looked down on me for not having insurance and even looked shocked and though no one had ever walked into that hospital without insurance before.  like i said many times i live in a low income white trash neighborhood if 10% of the people there have insurance i'd be surprised.  "you don't have ANY insurance?"  i didn't know there where degrees of being insured, i thought you where either insured or not insured.  like pregnant or not pregnant. i replied "no i'm insured but i only have liability...if i gave someone else pink eye, that would be covered"  he didn't get it, or he didn't find it amusing.  grown men who wear pajamas and bags over their shoes for a living should be more whimsical.  

another thing that is odd/irritating, how is it a cop can take one look at me and know that i don't have auto insurance and that my car isn't registered without even checking but this inter is shocked to learn i don't have health insurance?  i guess the torn jeans, tattered hoodie, faded t-shirt, and not being at a job on a Tuesday afternoon wasn't a clue that i might possibly not have health insurance.  cripes...I hope this guy isn't studying diagnostic medicine.  

also i know the hospital is the one place that needs acurate info from you but don't want to give my personal info to a guy in pajamas.  it used to be that the nurses and interns just worn they wear scrub pants and these horribly pattered brightly colored tops.  "hey, how far did you have to chase my grandma to get that shirt?"  i'm supposed to give my social security number to a guy in a purple, yellow, and powder blue paisley top?  if that top was just a little longer he'd look like the gayest Arab ever.

let's only give clip boards to people in button up shirts, or at least polo shirts with logos on them.  so he tells me i have pink eye and i get some goo prescribed that i have to squeeze into my eye twice a day or something and on the way home i did i get pink eye?  probably at the gym.  the gym is one of those places that is truly disgusting if you think about no one does.  I also remember using a public rest room at the library.  our library has 6 stalls and 6 urinals but they lock it because teenagers where going in there to have sex and get high.  your tax dollars at work again as the city paid for 11 more bathroom fixtures than they are using.  the key was on a wooden stick that said "mens" on it.  how is it i can't smoke in a restaurant because some kid might get second hand smoke, but it's okay for the restaurant owner to give that same kid a men's room key that has been touched buy countless people immediately after touching there privates? AND IT'S GOT A PEICE OF WOOD ATTACHED TO IT.  wood cutting boards are illeage in the food service industry because they are a breeding ground for germs, but need to use the bathroom? sure, here's the key attached to the most disgusting germ ridden 6x2 inch object on earth.

i'm sure i didn't get pink eye from that, because things like that are so obviously disgusting that i make a whole macguiver paper towel haz-mat Suit before using it.  of course that doesn't save me from being bumped into by some stranger who probably handled it two minutes before i got there and didn't wash his hands.

the funny thing about all this...they thought Howard Hughes was crazy.

anyway..that's all i'm going to say about the hospital because this whole-you people thinking that it's good when bad stuff happens to me is just wrong, and i'm not going to perpetuate it..



comments? concerns?