Eye appointment

I got my support worker to flick through my mail today. That was after I got a whole heap of other crap out of the road. Anyway, I found out that I have an eye appointment on the fifteenth of November. Is that fucking bad news or what! My eyes feel good enough so I can’t see why the hell I have to go back to that God damn eye clinic at the God damn hospital for. But… I guess the mother-fuckers want to look at me to make sure I’m doing ok, whether I say I am or not. Basically, you don’t get a say in what you want from them, you just do as theiy say or you get blamed if something goes wrong when you don’t go to the follow-ups. I’m sure the doctor in Townsville will be having a fit right now, wondering why I haven’t turned up yet. It’s not like I’d made an appointment with him, but that’s the thing. I haven’t made an appointment, so he’s probabloy wondering whether I’m still alive even, or doing ok, or if I’m hiding trouble from him. Well, I am ok, and no, I’m not in any trouble and just running away from the doctors. I must have given him that vibe that I’d try to keep away from the doctor, and he’s kind of right to be concerned. But between my family and the hospital here, I won’t be going anywhere very fast at all. So the doctor in Townsville will be happy to see a report from my ophthalmologist when he finds out that my eyes are in fact still going fine!

What I am scared of, and I can’t stress it enough, is that the doctor will want to do something to the left eye. Forget the right eye. It’s all good. I keep it clean so there’s no troubles with that. It’s the left eye I’m freaking out about. It feels good most of the time and hurts on and off sometimes. But I haven’t needed painkillers for my eye. I’m damn sure I’ll have to tell him that I’ve been taking pills for my periods if he has to ask about medication for whatever reasons he wants to come up with at the time. Luckily I’ve just been taking nurofen and Panamax around the clock for two or three days each month, then occasionally here and there apart from that. Hopefully with all the flus and other bugs out of the way, I shouldn’t need any pain medication whatsoever until next month. but if this fussy frigging doctor decides to do something, I guess I’ll be a druggy for two to three weeks after the surgery, then withdrawing from them like a sicko when I feel that my eye isn’t in enough pain to stay on them anymore. Drugs are horrible things, and I wouldn’t want to take pain pills just for the fun of it I can tell you! They feel good, but take them for long enough and you’re bad news when you decide to taper off them. Coming off them slowly instead of cold turkey won’t kill you, but it certainly won’t make you feel good either. I thought withdrawing from codeine was bad. Ah, when you compare codeine withdrawals to Tramadol, codeine really isn’t that hard to come off of. I can see why I don’t want to put up with surgery at any time soon. Spewing up is a pain in the arse after you wake up, but try vomiting when you think that maybe stopping pain pills would be a good idea now because the pain is tolerable enough to quit them. Yeah r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’right! At least after surgery spewing up just feels like you’re choking and spluttering, but absolutely not when you’re totally aware of it! I hate it both ways, but if I had the choice, I’d rather resign to putting up with vomiting when I’m only semi-conscious. I may not like it any more than I do, which is really I hate it more than death, – than if I was conscious and chucking up. My doctor had better not try to con me into accepting another procedure or I’ll cry. And cry and cry and cry and cry. I will absolutely shoot him down in flames too. He may be a good doctor, but doing invasive surgery isn’t my cup of tea or my kind or party fun.

Try is doing really well! Ive been running around a lot lately, up and down the driveway so he has to chase me and run back up the driveway to my place, so we race each other up there. It’s really fun. The neighbours hate me for causing a racket as they call it. It doesn’t bother them if they annoy others though, allow their dog to be a dirty rotten nuisance. No, they’re fine if they’re the fucking arseholes. But if I’m exercising my dog, it’s a different story. It’s fair enough that they don’t want their yard trashed, so I just make sure Troy doesn’t go over to their side, and I make sure to keep the dog food from going over to their side. But apart from that, the dickheads can get fucked if they think I shouldn’t be exercising a dog. Um, for one, supervising the dog while exercising it, is totally a different story from not supervising the animal while it shits and pisses everywhere! Secondly, going from letting the dog run free, to tying it up all the time and allowing it to bark and carry on at night time while I’m not outside, all because the bastards want to chuck a party while I’m inactive just so they can have an active night while I’m not around to apparently cause trouble, is just totally unreasonable. How about they exercise their dog more and keep the God damn thing off their property so I don’t have to put up with their shit and carrying on because they’re so jealous that I’m allowed to play with my dog but they’re apparently not allowed to. Well, I never said they can’t play with the dog, and nor did the Real Estate. They just said to dump their dog somewhere else, or they can move out. That’s got nothing to do with playing games with the dog. Also, they’re jealous that my dog is allowed to run free while their dog is tied up. Um, maybe if they hadn’t taken their dog onto Real Estate territory, they could damn well run their dog whenever they wanted to. And the only reason I can let my dog run around is because I supervise the fucking thing, if they don’t mind. Oh and he’s my guide dog. And if you’re caught denying the dog exercise, you’re in super big trouble, because you’re not allowed to abuse or neglect the dog in any way, shape or form. I’ll fucking give those damn neighbours, “I don’t really like you playing those silly games!) And the fact that he mumbled this statement almost under his breath, tells me that he’s in the wrong. And he’s too scared to talk to me properly because he knows I’ll tell him to back off if he tries anything wrong with me. He’ll have it coming if he thinks he can stop me from playing games with my dog. Maybe he should evict his stupid crappy shitty little dog that really isn’t meant to be oon this property anyway. If the neighbours love their dog so much, then they should have thought about thier love for animals before subjecting this dog to an inconsistent and unhealthy lifestyle. If the neighbours annoy me any more and try to disrupt my innocent games and try to get me into trouble for just being a reasonable person and treating the dog how it deserves and not just fucking leaving it sitting around all day, then I’ll make sure the dumb fuckwits leave very fast, and I’ll get into trouble for killing the dog.

I’m very glad today went well for me. So I’m happy to chill out for a while, then after that I’m taking my dog for a walk so he can have a good run around at a park just down the road. I’ll have to be careful to make sure he won’t run off though, but I’ll sort something out. There’s no fence around it so even if I show him where he can go, my biggest worry is that Troy will run over the footpath and behind me and may go onto the road or get taken by someone, or just keep running until he forgets where he is and can’t find me anymore. But again I’ll cross that bridge and work something out. I really want the dog to have a bit of happiness and health in his life. Dogs aren’t bred to sit around doing nothing all day. Troy has been really chilled out today because he runs around an awful lot now. I’m stuffed as well, but it means I sleep better of a night time! Life is good when you can run around and let your hair down a bit. I don’t really trust Troy with any other dogs that may play at this little park, but I’ll see what happens this arvy. I want to try and play the same games there that I play at home so when I do have to call Troy, he’ll come running up to me in high spirits as though nothing is wrong, even if I have to keep him out of trouble and he may not realise the danger. He’ll be fine! There’s plenty of space so he can dance around and all sorts of shit. He won’t be getting any bad jeering from anybody. If a mother hen thinks her chicks are gonna be eating while she’s encouraging them to have fun, then she moves them into a different location to make sure they’re safe, as well as attacking the predators in the process. I won’t have anybody tell me what I can and can’t do with my dog. The only thing they can tell me to stop is abuse. Well I’m not abusing the dog, so they can fucking butt out.


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