When Doctors Don’t Know What’s Wrong

When Doctors Don’t Know What’s Wrong

This guy makes so much sense it hurts :/ I kind of wish I had a doctor like him/her.
So, yeah. My wrist's been playing up again, and good grief, it hurts so much. It doesn't usually hurt this much. I can barely move it without hurting. I have my last history exam tomorrow. I hope the pain goes down by then :/
I'm also slightly terrified that when (because I will, at some point soon) I go to the doctor, they'll tell me that it's all psychosomatic and my wrist is fine. Which will really piss me off, if they do so without at least taking an X-ray.
Though perhaps if they X-ray it first, I'll grudgingly accept it.
God, I don't want this pain to be in my head. It hurts so much, and there's no logic behind when it hurts - no pattern or similarity in the times - and what a waste, you know? Wasting time in pain when you don't need to be.

Fran's a sweetheart about it though. She doesn't take anything from anyone- for example, if someone thought to even mention  anything about women's rights and belonging in the kitchen - she gets all fired up and doesn't stop ranting until I force a subject change. Or give her food. Occasionally I let her go on, because bitchy!pissed-off!Fran is one of the more entertaining things in life :) But anyway - considering that she doesn't take bullshit from anyone, and we've both discussed and agreed that there's a high probability of my wrist pain being psychosomatic, if ever I complain - or even if she sees me rubbing or flexing my wrist without saying anything, or if she sees me favouring my left hand over my right - she'll immediately offer to carry whatever it is that I'm holding (which I refuse, usually, because please, I'm a big girl now) for an indefinite period of time. Which is lovely of her. I like that she gets protective over little silly things that we've agreed will probably turn out to be made up by my brain.
It shows that she cares, and I think I prefer this quieter subtler form of affection than the ostensible physical type, where everything is hugs and kisses. Though we hug and kiss too, but not to a very great extent. This is more of a case of actions speaking louder than words, isn't it? It's nice :)

My wrist still hurts, though. I think I'd prefer it if it didn't hurt so much, even if it does help me understand my friends a little better.

Peace :)

Time Is Disappearing (But Only In My Head)

Okay so I just looked at my calendar and it says June. What. I don't understand - I swear it was like January yesterday. I don't know where all the time has gone :/
I feel as if I've slept all the time away, but I can't have, because I've been shouted at for not sleeping enough so many times and  I do remember the middle months - BUT WHERE HAVE THEY GONE???
It feels so confusing. Bah.
I swear GCSEs are fucking with my head.
Pffft.
O_O

I can't wait for the summer. It's just going to be parties and friends and learning things that I want to learn, not things that I have to learn :)

Anyway, we had a little party (i.e. about five or six people, excluding my parents and me) last week. Now, my family are all crackheads, and partying is their personal drug of choice.
So it got to around two in the morning, and if we froze the tableau, it would look a bit like this:
My sister's upstairs in bed, asleep, so she's unharmed by the madness that is so often wrought when alcohol is involved :P
Someone has been laid out flat on the floor, because my dad's favourite form of entertainment is to rile his guests up. Other people are drunk off their faces, and have been egging my dad on, and find it hilarious when the guy who's been my dad's victim for the night punches his friend (as opposed to my dad. O_O Men logic).
I'm torn between embarrassment and (condescending) amusement, because another guy has been giving me 'friendly advice' on how to spend/take care of my money, because of my dad venting to him earlier about how I once spent £300 in one go (**sigh** Sometimes, a girl needs serious retail therapy, okay?) and as my lecturer for the night is also completely pissed, his words are slurred and he keeps on going on about how we're mates, even if he is over forty years of age. Geezer.
And the genetics professor, the film professor and my mum are bonding/communally despairing over how the youth of today have no motivation and no interest in politics or global issues.

**cue another sigh**
Actually, this is a pretty standard occurrence.
We had another 'friendly get-together' last month, and my dad managed to incite someone else to violence as well. Except that guy hit a woman, which wasn't so okay, so most people glared at him until he grovelled for her forgiveness. Which she gave, because she was also drunk off her face and he's a bit of a wimp.

Although I quite enjoy watching these, because I get the pure amusement of seeing people get drunk and make utter fools of themselves.
:D

Peace, motherfuckers
x