psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
Once upon a time I told [livejournal.com profile] nowgoesquickly that one of the reasons I don't usually find horror films scary is that things happen on the farm that are sufficiently horrible as to eclipse monster sharks and squishy aliens.

So to-day we went down to feed the pigs and chickens and turkeys. They were all busy being adorable -- we have seven, count 'em, seven little jakes and they are super friendly -- and the chickens, which are adolescents and so fairly cute still and very fluffy, were scooting around making funny noises, and the pigs were playing in their water. Mama and Maria were scritching Grace behind the ears, and she fell over, which she always does when you scritch her.

We were remarking on the delicacy of their faces, and how pretty and wide their ears are, and their big eyes and long eyelashes and long red hair. I was actually starting to feel kind of bad about the fact that we'll slaughter them in November.

And then Mama said, "Oh, my God."

Maria and I looked.

"Oh fuck," I said, before I could stop myself. I glanced over at Mama to see if I was going to get a Look for swearing, but she was still staring in horror.

"But where's the other--?" said Maria.

We scanned the pig enclosure quickly. There it was, among the tomatoes we'd thrown in for the pigs to eat.

"Oh fuck," I squeaked.

"Oh, God," Mama said, poking in the mud and straw with a stick. There was a reddish clump of something that used to be golden.

Just then Darius, the boar, started to root. There was a cracking of bones as he grabbed the disembodied leg -- pallid and limp, drained of blood -- nearest to us and started to chew it up and devour it.

The buff Orphington cockerel is no more.

He climbed into the pig pen to steal some of their grain and they ate him.

Suddenly I am a lot more comfortable with their approaching execution. They do not look quite as cute as they used to.

Also, yesterday I had to empty another turkey nest full of dead eggs. >_> She had ten, and every single one had a stillborn poult inside. She is still sitting on the empty nest. I also found a hen brooding a clutch up in the hill pasture by the horse trailer, but hers appear to be reasonably healthy eggs and also she bit me very hard when I was checking them, so my plan is to leave her alone. A third hen hatched a clutch of six in the dry streambed beside the barn while we were on vacation, so perhaps this one can be competent.

Also also, the adolescent guineas learned to fly to-day! :D When I last checked, they were all up on the outhouse roof, while the adolescent poults stood around the bottom going "D: but we wanna go up there toooooo".

Maggie ate a groundhog. She dashed into the buffer by the Mahantango, grabbed it by the neck, and shook it till it was dead. It kept whining and screaming.

Horror films. Pffffft.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Mycroftian Horrors)
NOT in a very good frame of mind.

I called the insurance company this morning, and honestly the lady was very nice -- she called down to the pre-auth dept. to figure out why I still didn't have my meds, and figured out that it's because my (3) 75 mg caps a day (i.e. one prescription) are more expensive to the insurance company than (1) 150 mg and (1) 75 mg caps a day (two prescriptions, so more expensive for me personally). Which they didn't TELL ME, of course, they just refused to authorise my scrip for over a week.

Soooo she also found out that it would be about thirty dollars cheaper to do my meds through mail-order, so she gave me the number to have my doctor fax and gave me all the info for that, so I called Dr. C and got that arranged, BUT that means I don't get those in the mail for another eight days, even if they're marked urgent. That means I still have to pay out of pocket for the meds to cover me for that time period.

So theoretically I need to do that to-day, but I'm almost too depressed. x___x

However, I also have to go into town to xerox forms for my insurance claim for the x-rays I had in April, so I'll be there anyway, so I'll probably stop by the pharmacy and sell my soul while I'm in the vicinity. To soothe my wounded sense of justice, I am making my fourth batch of cupcakes, which I will give to the library ladies, I figure.

Anyway, I can't leave until my cupcakes finish and I repackage the pork from the butcher's into smaller portions for the freezer. Daddy says I can use the chicken scale if I can find it.

If I really were Mycroft Holmes, right now I would be having everyone deported left and right. Seriously. Argh.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Disappointed)
So I'm sure everyone is desperately interested in hearing the continuation of the Saga of the Insurance Company from Hell (yes, you are).

Yesterday my doctor told me that she had called the insurance company again and faxed them being all URGENT URGENT MY PATIENT IS DYING PLZ SEND HER HER MEDS, and she assured me, when I phoned, that they had told her I would be authorised to have them within twenty-four hours. So this morning I ran to the pharmacy, because I'm out again.

Where the pharmacist told me, as nicely as possible, that the insurance company had NOT authorised my scrip and everyone was now out for the weekend, so it was unlikely I would be authorised until Tuesday. He also suggested that I call the insurance company and grovel to them on Tuesday. In the meantime, I could buy some meds out of pocket.

Now, because the pill I'm taking does not come in 225 mg caps, which is the dose I take, I have to take three 75 mg caps every day. Which means in order to get by until Tuesday, I had to buy twelve caps instead of four. And because Mama is broke right now, I paid for them with my birthday money. ;___; Which is just a minor complaint, honestly, because at least I have money, but I am whinging because I wanted to get art supplies with it.

So my plan is to call the insurance company on Tuesday. Yayyy! In the meantime, I have incredibly expensive medication, and a twelve-hour shift at work to-morrow.

On the PLUS SIDE, Maria and Mama and I went clothes shopping to-day and I managed to find two pairs of jeans that fit, as well as a really cute denim skirt and even a pair of shorts (which is disguised to look like a skirt, which suits me just fine). Which is great, since usually the fact that I am shaped exactly like a hobbit makes clothes shopping a fairly traumatic experience. I also made cupcakes for a party to-morrow that I will not get to go to, but they turned out really nicely! Even though I burnt my hands, bleh.

Yeah. If it weren't for this insurance thing, my life would be going pretty nicely overall.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
Dear My Insurance Company:

Congratulations! You have proved your sagacity. The fact that I have taken the same medication every day for the last four years might convince a lesser mind that I actually need it, but you in your wisdom have seen through that ruse. As you have guessed, my medication is purely an extraneous expense that I continue to pay monthly in the hopes of making you, too, suffer the associated financial loss.

Someone else might just accept that since three different doctors have signed off on its necessity said medicine might just as well be purchased, but you, Insurance Company, understand that action is called for in these situations. That is why you have taken the bold step of cutting me off.

It is now my third day without medication, but I am still alive, proving beyond a doubt that I do not need it to survive. The symptoms of nausea, vertigo, migraine, and increased weeping are merely psychosomatic effects of withdrawal that will soon fade. Despite the fact that my job involves protracted stretches of car travel, I am sure that I will not endanger myself or anyone else by driving while dizzy. Within a few weeks, everything should be fine, and it will be obvious that you have made the right decision.

Or I'll be dead, I guess.

Thank you for your prompt and thoughtful actions!

Very little love,
Soujin

Dear Pharmacy Man:

Thank you for fronting me two days' worth of my meds. ;___; I feel a bit less like I'm going to die now. You are a good man.


Soujin
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
Hurrdurr I'm back and I just now finished my assignment due to-morrow that I totally am not going to hand in on time because I cannot function anymore and I JUST. DON'T. CARE.

alfkjalsjfalkjfls

This is how stupid I get when I'm exhausted and insanely stressed out. But I did want to state for the record that I'm home and if anyone wants to pet me and cuddle me and love me and magically add about seven more days to my weekend, that would be really sweet.

(Easter was good.)
psalm_onethirtyone: (Gross Things are Cool!)
Got the results back from the x-rays -- apparently I don't have arthritis, but my hip sockets are shaped funny (shallow), and the doctor thinks the ball joints of my legs are rubbing against them, especially while I'm sleeping, hence the hip pain. It's actually kind of cool -- I am finding diagrammes online to show me what it looks like. I guess it would be a sort of asymmetric incongruity? Fun!

She suggested physical therapy, but I don't really have the time or money, so she also suggested taking ibuprofen before I go to sleep as a preventative.

Also, apparently, I can expect to have reasonably significant arthritis by the time I hit forty. So that's fun too.

Therapy at one (lots of issues to discuss there) and then I will finish this goddamn paper.

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psalm_onethirtyone: (Default)
Soujin

January 2012

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