Road Trip Part 1: Lock Haven

Okay..

I think I have enough coffee in me to post about the weekend trip to just about everywhere it snowed! LoL! But I think to save your sanity and WordPress’s servers, I’ll going to split it up into multiple posts.

You’ll thank me later.. I swear!

On to it ..

Did you ever hear someone say, “.. oh, you should have seen her when she was younger?” .. Like, I don’t know.. a really old actress or something who’s better days were A LOT of days ago? Well.. that’s Consuela.

Consuela being the christened name of the 30′  1979 Dodge Fleetwood Southwind RV that we bought for 800.00 bucks.

This is what Consuela looked like back in the day

Not sure if I ever wrote about it on here but we found Consuela on Craigslist and let’s just say it was more then a chore getting her in our possession. The people we bought her from didn’t really use her the way she was intended to be used.

She stayed park in one spot during the summer and then was parked in another spot 2 miles away for the remainder of the year.

The first time we drove up to get her.. there was an issue with finding the keys and then an issue with finding a battery for it.. and then an issue with the title.. just a whole LOT of issues.. MORE issues then I like. Me being of the Plan! Plan! Plan! mind set and all. That was also the time when the Crack Whore was making all these allegations via text messages about leaving Spaz home by himself and then refusing to answer her phone resulting in us having to drive home.

Water under the bridge, right?

Oh yea. Riiiigghhhttt.

At any rate…

So as I posted HERE, we had to drive up to Lock Haven, PA on Friday to get Consuela which takes about 4 hours. Then we were going to stay over night.. Drive the 5 hours to West Virginia on Saturday.. stay over night.. and then drive the 9 hours back home on Sunday.

What did I just write about Plan! Plan! Plan!? Hmph.

Consuela

So Friday morning I wake up sick. Not “sick” sick.. but my stomach was bad and my head felt like there was a marble spinning in it. Not the proper condition to drive 4 hours.

Oh.. and did I mention there was a snow storm going on?

Yea.. snow is going to play a HUGE part in this.

Anyway.. so it’s snowing and I’m feeling too loopy to drive so Chief jumps behind the wheel of the station wagon that’s loaded with blankets and pillows and food and a heater and tools and Jimmy Hoffa and away we go.

Now, I’m not a good passenger. I’ve been getting car sick ever since I was a kid so unless the only place we’re going is around the corner, I’m always the driver. That’s just to let you know how sick I was really feeling because not only did I NOT get car sick, but I actually slept through most of the trip.

Not that it matters.. right now I’m hyper caffeinated so I’m over detailing everything. My apologies!

Anyway.. I had contacted the owners a few days prior to make sure they had everything ready to go and that there wasn’t going to be the kind of delays there were the previous trip. I explained AGAIN that we can’t keep tossing out the 80.00 bucks in gas it takes to get there and that we were on an EXTREMELY tight budget .. financially and time wise .. this weekend. She assured me that every was like greased lightening.. no issues.. no problems..

Consuela and Chief

You know it can’t be that easy, right? It’s me here, remember?

We get up to Lock Haven around 1:30pm and meet the couple.. who had just returned from WalMart with one of those emergency battery starters. Not a good sign.

No problem, Chief tells me. You have to expect this kind of thing when it’s been as cold as it’s been and Consuela has just been sitting since the summer.

We decide that Chief would stay with Consuela and the guy we bought it from so that they could get her started and I would go to the notary with the wife to change the title.

I’m glad the notary wasn’t far because she drove like a freakin’ maniac and I was going to hurl within the first ten minutes of the drive.

Anyway .. on the ride there I ask her if she had taken care of the title. She said she had.

NOTE: On the previous visit, she told me that the title was never put in their names. Some one had given it to them to repay a debt and it did nothing but sit on their river lot until the decided to sell it.

Oh.. but she hadn’t. The only thing she did was have the guy who’s name it was titled in sign the back. Not good. Not even legal. And she was told just how illegal it was by the notary woman who so no-nonsense she made an old school nun seem like a harlot. I’m biting the inside of my cheek because I was just thisdamnclose to saying somethings that I really didn’t need to say to someone who was my ride back.

Note to Self: ALWAYS take your own car when doing anything of any legal consequence that involves people you will never see again.

So she calls the dude that was listed on the title and explains to him that he needed to come down to the notary so that we can switch the title. He says he can’t because he was watching his grandkids. I am now a firm believer that the “ghetto eye shift” is universally understood because she started saying how we had driven the four hours, blah blah blah. She got the point right away that if this deal didn’t happen that day, I was going to want my 800.00 bucks back. Pronto. The dude says he could be there at 3 and I was like fine. I had to get Consuela insured and needed the VIN number to do that so all that could be done by the time 3 rolled around.

We go back to where Consuela is parked and Chief and the husband have had no luck getting her started. Well, she was starting but wasn’t staying started. I explained what was going on with the title. He wasn’t thrilled either but there wasn’t anything to do at that point but wait.

I get the insurance (86.00.. with only 24.00 down. Can you STAND it??) and give the notary’s fax number so that Geico can fax a copy of the insurance card to her.

We tell the couple that we’re going to follow them back to the notary to meet the dude because both Chief and I were starving and it didn’t make sense for all of us to go in their truck and have them wait around for us. Especially because I would have felt obligated to offer to buy them lunch and not only couldn’t I afford to.. didn’t want to.. or thought they deserved it.. it’s just how I was raised.

Back to the notary we go.. and the notary hadn’t gotten the fax with my proof of insurance. Great. So I jump on the phone and call Geico while we wait for the dude. He shows.. gets a tongue lashing from the notary.. I have Geico resend the fax.. the couple leave.. the second fax never comes. Great.

So I tell the notary that we’re going to grab something to eat because Chief is ready to pass out and maybe by the time we get back she’ll have the fax.

I go out to the car and tell a very hungry husband that we still have to wait and he says to call Geico again.. just to make sure.

I do and the third rep I talk to confirms that the faxes were send and did I think it was maybe the receiving fax machine that was the issue? Ok.. and I’m suppose to know that HOW? So I go back into the notary and nope.. hasn’t gotten any faxes and when I questioned whether maybe her fax wasn’t working properly you might have thought I asked her if she had false teeth.

Upstate people get offended by the craziest things!

I ask her, via the Geico rep, if she has an email address that the insurance info can be sent to.

Nope. Her computer wasn’t working.

FANfreakinTASTIC! I’m literally about to either cry or bust out the city girl can of whoop because how can a state agent NOT have a computer that works OR a fax machine that wasn’t from the 1980’s when insuring a vehicle the same time your processing the title and tags in the norm?

But I did neither. I just stood there with the Geico rep on the phone looking pathetic.

Which, of course, made the notary remember about her daughter’s computer and email address. Her daughter that just happened to be sitting in the kitchen of the notary’s home that was located right on the OTHER SIDE of the office wall. Yea.. we were in one of those towns.

So while the Geico rep is repeating “.. is it there yet? is it there yet? is it there yet? is it there yet?” in my ear.. and the notary is finalizing another vehicle for another customer.. and Chief is almost past out from hunger in the wagon.. I’m saying a prayer that everything is going to go the way it’s suppose to go because God gives you delays for a reason.

I would be saying that prayer a LOT this road trip.

Finally the email comes through.. we finalize the transaction and $191.00 later (in a check, which you’ll see is an important fact a little later on) I walk out with the tags and temporary registration.

By now it’s almost 4pm and my next concern is daylight. Or rather, how little of it we have left.

A few things you need to know:

• I don’t do well driving at  night.. especially in unfamiliar places
• Chief is going to be following me in a 3o year old RV that hasn’t been driven more then 3 miles in the last year
• We wouldn’t have any way to communicate between us.. because the King and Queen of Idiocy never picked up walkie talkies
• The campsite we were taking it to was a good 25+ miles away.. 10 miles if I wanted to be suicidal and drive through the  mountain on snow covered secondary access roads no wider then my car

Daylight was something I did NOT want to lose!

When we get back to Consuela .. she still wasn’t running. They would get her started by juicing up the battery but as soon as she went into gear she’d stall. Let me tell you, the guy we bought her from and his father in law were both working like donkey’s to get her to go.. and even though it was noble, I still think it was because they thought we’d want our money back.

Every minute that ticked by.. every shade darker the sky got.. the more annoyed I was getting. Chief knew it.. he can read my face better then anyone.. but if there’s one thing this man knows besides cooking it’s cars and motors. He knew that everything on Consuela was frozen and she just needed to be rocked back and forth until everything that would make her run got warmed up and stretched out.

And of course, he was right. Eventually .. at 6pm, we were ready to roll.

Did I mention it was dark then?

Did I mention how dark it gets upstate?

Oh.. and did I mention that highway lights or street lights haven’t made it to that part of the country yet??

I had previously called the camp ground that we were suppose to stay at last time we were up here and they were expecting us. They remembered us from the last time we were suppose to stay there because we paid for the site up front but because of all the drama with Consuela, the kids and the Crack Whore we never actually stayed there. The owner, Bruce, told me that he owed us a night.. which was really sweet and what we didn’t find out until later was that the camp ground was actually closed for the winter. He opened the gates just for us.

NOTE: Shameless plug for Holiday Pines Camp Ground in Loganton, PA. !

Ok.. so we’re finally on our way but we have to get gas in Consuela and still get something to eat. Driving on roads only lit by my headlights and constantly eyeballing my rear view mirror making sure that Chief and Consuela are behind me was so taxing that when I made the right turn off the side road and onto the main road, I didn’t realize that it was a two lane road and that I was in the lane of oncoming traffic until I saw headlights coming at me.

Not fun.

The gas station wasn’t that far down the TWO LANE main road and just as Chief was maneuvering Consuela to the gas pumps, she died. And I wanted to die right along with her. Not really.. but my heart sank. So did Chief’s. I can’t even describe the feeling.. but with only the Lord above to thank, poor Consuela only needed gas.

Did I mention that there was a split in the gas tank up where you put the gas nozzle in? So like, for every 5 gallons we put in we lost like half a gallon. Not good when you’re on a limited budget and you got a gas eater on  your hands.. a gas eater that eats MORE gas when driving into the wind.

I did mention there was a snow storm, right?

Ok.. so we get her started and all we wanted to do was drive RIGHT. ACROSS. THE. ROAD. to the Golden Arches of McDonald’s. It’s almost 7 by now and neither of us has eaten all day.

Right across the road.. what could possibly go wrong.

Me driving at night with Chief behind me in a 30′ box that doesn’t bend when you make turns and doesn’t stop on a dime, either is what happens.

I wound up missing the turn into McDonald’s because there wasn’t going to be enough time for Chief to stop Consuela behind me so we had to drive all the way back down the road to where we had come out of the secondary road earlier and I knew I should have just turned up that secondary road but I saw a parking lot on my right that was big enough for Chief to turn around in but instead of turning into the parking lot, I wound up turning onto a street .. one of those never ending winding ones that seemed like it was just going to go on and on forever before it put you on a highway.

If I could read minds, I think Chief would have had not problem turning me into dog meat right then.

And again, thanks  can only be given to God because not only can this man cook.. not only does he know cars and motors.. but he is also used to driving things the size of Consuela so he was able to pull a three point turn and we finally found our way back to McDonald’s. Where.. with only thanks given to God.. there was enough empty spaces in the parking lot on a Friday night to park Consuela.

We ate and then made our way to the camp ground.. which thankfully.. was uneventful except when we had to turn down a dark, narrow, snow covered road to get there and I was kind of confused as to which way to go so while stopped at a stop sign, I put the address into the TomTom. There was a local that was behind Chief who just couldn’t wait anymore so he blasted around us. Other then that, we got there and we got Consuela plugged in to the electricity so we had juice to run the heater we had brought. And good thing too because the generator wasn’t working and in 13 degree weather, you really need to keep warm!

We were excited. All the drama forgotten, we kept on giggling “.. we got an RV” to each other like kids on Christmas morning. It was something we both had always wanted for years and one of our earliest conversation was about how cool it would be to have one.

There was a whole tank of propane so while he got the stove working to make coffee,  I pulled the bed out and loaded them down with all the blankets we had brought with us. Because make no mistake.. it was FREEZING in there.

We had brought provision but one thing we hadn’t thought about was water. Because the camp ground was closed for the winter, the hoses at each site were closed down to prevent freezing. Now what? Neither Chief nor I can survive on one cup of coffee daily and we were both looking forward to snuggling up in the bed with a nice, hot cup and watching a movie on the laptop.

No problem! My ever industrious husband pointed outside at the snow and said, “.. we got plenty of water!” and proceeded to scoop cups of snow into the pot on the stove.

He may be industrious but sometimes he doesn’t have much common sense because if he did, he would have cupped the snow off just the TOP and we wouldn’t have had to strain all the pebbles, grass and dirt that settled at the bottom of the coffee pot.

At least we did that BEFORE putting the grounds in the water!

And let me tell you.. that had to be THE best cup of coffee I had in a long time!

It had been a long day and eventful so even though we wanted to stay up and cuddle and watch a movie on the laptop, it wasn’t long before our eyes started to get heavy.

There was a lot that needed to be done the following morning before we started out for West Virginia.. he needed to put in the secondary battery and wanted to see if he could get the generator to work.

We had to leave the camp ground by noon and considering how much stuff he wanted to accomplish, staying up late and getting up late really wasn’t an option so we bedded down for the night.. snug and toasty.

And then the roof started to leak. Right next to where we were sleeping. By that time, all we could do was laugh and put a towel under it to muffle the “plops”!

To Be Continued…

 

This Would Be REALLY Funny If It Wasn’t Going To Be An Excuse To Shuck Your Parental Responsibilities

Ok..

So you know that (No Longer) Weed has really taken cleaning up his act seriously. He’s been avoiding all his druggie / drinking friends except for one.. Harry Potter.

No.. not the books.

His one friend looks exactly  like Harry Potter except he has long hair. I know him and his family and they are really good people. Harry’s younger two brothers are complete fuck ups but Harry has his shit together.. works a third shift job.. is always reading something and has always been quiet and respectful.

Why him and (No Longer) Weed are still friends is beyond me but they are..

Anyway.. so Harry Potter likes to smoke pot every once in a while and (No Longer) Weed has been talking to him about stopping and even invited him to a NA meeting.. which Harry Potter went to.

Yesterday (No Longer) Weed was telling me that the Crack Whore FINALLY gave her consent for Harry Potter to use her car so him and (No Longer) Weed can go to the movies or book store or whatever when they got into an accident.

Apparently, Harry was switching lanes and there was a 2010 Black Cadillac in his blind spot. Harry is used to driving his mom’s mini van so I guess it was easy for him to miss a big black Caddy…

(No Longer) Weed said that they guy was cool about it and didn’t even want to call the cops. I thought that was a HUGE mistake but either the Caddy guy didn’t have insurance.

This is the second accident the Crack Whore’s car has been in in as many months so when he told me, I was like “.. yea, her insurance is going to go through the ROOF.”

Chief was like, “.. I said the same thing!!”

That is… if she even has insurance. Not sure of that either but although I did get a little giggle.. I’m sure this is going to yet another excuse for not paying her child support.

AND I’m wondering if she’s going to hound Harry Potter to pay for the damage. It WAS his fault and I’m sure he will want to pay for the damage but she also has to understand that he’s a kid, living at home and not making a shit load of money.. I know how she can be and I’m wondering if she’s going to cause a problem between Harry and (No Longer) Weed…

WARNING: I’m Playing The Violin And Playing It So Hard That Nero Would Be Proud

Ok..

So I’m not usually a violin player .. and don’t usually do the whole “poor me” thing so maybe it’s a full moon .. or the incoming snow.. or maybe I need a good stiff fudge caramel sundae.

Or a roll of SweetTarts .. my SweetTart consumption has been exceedingly low lately.

But here’s the deal…

So we have two vehicles. My Mercury Sable station wagon and an old Astro van that his uncle gave us less then a year ago. Since Chief’s license was suspended, I’m doing ALL the driving .. everywhere. So naturally, I drive my wagon.

I HATE DRIVING THE ASTRO.

There’s no leg room .. it’s not comfortable.. but it’s a necessary evil when going to the wholesalers or Home Depot so if I have to drive it .. I do.

The inspection was up on the Sable at the end of January .. and since I cannot afford either the inspection OR insurance until the end of this week, I’ve been forced to drive the Astro full time.

NOTE: I don’t normally drive without insurance .. it was a matter of finances so I bit my tongue.. developed another ulcer and made sure I didn’t go too far or drive unlike an 98 year old man with a handicap palcard.

Anyway.. there’s something wrong with the Astro. A few months ago, before it started getting cold, Chief had mentioned something about some kind of screen needing to be cleaned that has something to do with the transmission. I have no clue what he was talking about but he set something up with the mechanic across the street from the shop to fix it on the side.

But, of course, you know what happened.. we didn’t have the money when the mechanic stopped by for it .. therefore.. it never got fixed.

So when I started to have to drive it full time, Chief told me to not push it to go into gear.. because if I did I could drop the trans and then it would cost something like 1700.00 to fix.

He told me how I needed to drive it and that was that.

So last night, I drive Spaz to the church’s youth group.. only the youth group wasn’t meeting for some reason so we’re driving back to the house and I’m approaching the intersection of a main boulevard. The approach is uphill so even thought the Astro won’t go past 30 mph, I still have to give it gas to go up the hill.

I’m like.. a foot before the intersection and the light turns yellow.

I have to make a split second decision and OBVIOUSLY I didn’t make the right one because as I’m crossing the intersection on the now-turned RED light, there’s a cop who immediately puts his lights on.

FUCK.

FUCK TWICE because not only am I getting stopped but of course, I didn’t have my handbag with my driver’s license and registration.. and OF COURSE the Astro isn’t insured either.

So as I’m pulling over into the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot because there isn’t a shoulder on the road we were on, I’m thinking that I really need to start shaving my legs daily because this is the second time I think I’m going to jail and having furry legs in a prison cell wearing a bright orange jumpsuit would probably just itch like crazy.

TO BE CONTINUED.. I have to drive Spaz to school

Okay .. so where was I?

Oh.. so we get pulled over by the cop and it’s not a borough cop .. it’s a township cop.

Not a good thing so what’s a girl to do?

As he approaches the car :: complete with moment to moment color analysis by Spaz :: I did the only thing I could do.

I know exactly what I did officer and I have no excuse for it.

I guess he was expecting me to try and weasel out of it .. or make up an excuse or argue with him or something and when I didn’t, he didn’t say anything.

So I continued talking.. explained that I was taking Spaz to youth group at church and because I can’t drive MY car, I had to drive THIS van and there’s something wrong with the tranny and blah blah blah and I had to make a split second decision and it was the wrong one.

Oh.. and I also told him that I didn’t have my handbag with me.

He actually started laughing. He said that he wasn’t laughing AT me but “.. that’s the best thing I heard all day.”

So glad I could make HIS FUCKING NIGHT!!

He asks me for my name, address and last four digits of my social which happens to be the mark of the beast. I mentioned that I wasn’t really the AntiChrist .. just a poor last minute decision maker.

He laughs harder.

He goes to his squad car and while he’s there, Spaz is saying all these things about him. I tell him that the man was only doing his job. I was wrong .. even thought the light WAS yellow .. and I would have to be responsible and take ownership for it.

The cop comes back and tells me that he isn’t going to write me up a citation RIGHT NOW for two reasons. One, he doesn’t feel like writing and two, the fines have increased and he wasn’t sure what they were.

I would have offered him my last SweetTart then if I had them because I was so damn relieved that I was neither going to jail nor having my van confiscated.

He also said that when I receive the citations in the mail, that I should SERIOUSLY consider checking off the Not Guilty box and request a hearing. He said that he couldn’t TELL me to do that.. but he was SUGGESTING that I MIGHT WANT to do that… explaining that these citations would carry points and if I went before the judge the cop MAY or MAY NOT be there and I might get off easier.

But he wasn’t TELL ME TO DO THAT mind you.. cause that would be like, illegal.

And he’s a cop.

So… yknow..

He then goes on to tell me that neither Spaz nor I had seat belts on and he has to watch out for the safety of not only us but other drivers..

He then went on to tell me that what I did was dangerous and something could have happened to Spaz or if it happened to ME, then Spaz would be traumatized.

He then went on to tell me the importance of seat belts and of not driving through a busy intersection with a cop sitting on the corner.

The whole time, my only responses were YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT and I HAVE NO EXCUSE.. I may have even said I REALIZE MY BAD DECISION COULD HAVE HURT OR INJURED US OR GOD FORBID SOMEONE ELSE. Don’t remember.

Then he was just going on and on and on and on.. and I felt like saying I GET IT ALREADY but no.. I didn’t.. I just bobbed my head like one of the dog statues in the rear dash of cars and took my lecture.

Finally, it was over and even thought I was relieved to be on my way back home I was now EXTREMELY petrified to drive the block and half to my house.

But we got there with no further drama with Spaz completely bouncing off the walls waiting for me to tell his father what had happened.

I knew it wasn’t going to be a big deal. I mean, let’s face it .. Chief has done some pretty creative things with cars in his day. And it wasn’t any kind of deal at all.

I think Spaz was a little disappointed.

So then fast forward to this morning. I had to drive Bubba to school.. which I really wasn’t looking forward to anyway .. but on the way there it seemed like the van was getting worse.

Fucking wonderful.

Plus I had to drive through the county and my police spider senses were in high gear and I’m anticipating every single green light would turn yellow and then red as soon as I started to go through it so you’re basically talking HELL with more then a capital H.

When I get to the store, I was in a “mood”. Woman will understand what I mean.. men, not so much.  It wasn’t that I was angry or upset or mad or whatever.. I was just in a “mood”. Because after the emotional roller coaster about Bella early in the morning, I just started questioning all the decisions I’ve made and how I’ve sunken this low .. to have two cars that aren’t insured that need tons of work that gonna cost tons of money that I don’t have..

Chief had been outside the shop talking to the crossing guard and when he came in he said it looked like I was on the verge of tears.

I didn’t think that I was.. I think I was just wearing a “face” .. but whatever.

He asked me what was wrong and I waved my arms around and said everything. I tried to continue with my list of “everything” and started off with the cars and he cut me off by saying, “.. that’s just life.”

You will never understand how inflamed I got at that moment.

“.. isn’t it?” he finished.

Maybe YOUR life, Bucky .. maybe YOU’RE used to living like this but I sure as HELL ain’t.

He mumbled that he would look at the van and walked out of the store. He came back in a few minutes later and said that the transmission fluid was low and went across the street to the garage to get some.

He put it in and the van did seem to run a lot better so maybe that’s all it was.

I dunno ..

What I do know is that something is going to have to either break or change and I’ve already done all the changing that I’m willing to do.

Harsh Reality

Ok.. so before I get into this post, let me bring y’all up to speed by saying that I no longer have health insurance because I was laid off in July. Even if I would consider it, I am NOT eligible for state aid because I receive unemployment. I AM eligibile for a private HMO but have to wait through a 7 month “grace” period.

So with that said …

This past Wednesday, The Good Doctor’s husband came into the shop for turkey. Chief explains that he doesn’t have the turkey that The Good Doctor’s husband likes because I’ve been sick as a dog and without me in the shop or doing the running around, everything is on a skeleton.

The Good Doctor’s husband asks what’s wrong.. Chief goes into my litany of symptoms… and the Good Doctor’s husband tells Chief to have me call ASAP and they’ll fit me in.

So Chief calls me and I am SO NOT A HAPPY CAMPER. I don’t like going to doctors. He knows this but OBVIOUSLY is more concerned about my well being then I am. But now I’m in a bind because it’s The Good Doctor. Who is not only a super sweet person but a really good customer and since Chief had to open his big fat mouth and they’ll willing to fit me in.. I have to call.

Fuck.

It was around lunch time so I figured I’d wait an hour before I call. I tell him this.. he seems satisfied and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Until my cell phone rang.

Until my cell phone rand that The Good Doctor’s name came up on the caller id.

Fuck! He gave them my freakin’ number.

He knows me SO well!

Wind up is is that I couldn’t be seen until Thursday at 11:15am.

I immediately call Chief and chastised him on giving out my cell phone number. But he knew the deal and was just glad that I made the appointment.

He wanted to come with me but since my appointment was at the start of his lunch rush, I told him I could go at it alone. I figured I’d be feeling better by the next day anyway and also, I didn’t want him there when they weighed me.

Trivial girly stuff.. but it is what it is so what can I tell you.

I actually am NOT feeling any better at the time of my appointment. And as I’m sitting in The Good Doctor’s waiting room I am suddenly overcome by the feeling of passing out. I only ALMOST passed out once and it wasn’t a nice feeling. It was so bad that I couldn’t even hold the pen to fill out the paperwork.

So I get all girly and sniffly and call Chief and tell him that I need him. The shop is only a few blocks away and he was there in an instant. And of course, as soon as he got there I started to feel better and told him he could leave. Of course, he looked at me like I was insane but I knew his mind was on the store and missing the lunch rush money and I started to feel guilty that I had even called him in the first place. But he felt that his place was with me so he stayed.

When we finally got called into the exam room and The Good Doctor started to exam me, and based on what I was telling her she says that there is a very real possibility that I contracted the Pig Virus :: H1N1 to all you non-rednecks :: and that if I had come in sooner she could have given me something that would have made me better faster.

Wonderful. What the hell can I tell you.

She then asked if I smoked. If Chief wasn’t there I would have lied and said that I was able to quit xx months ago or get all giddy and excited by telling her I HAVE XX DAYS CLEAN! but I couldn’t because he was there and so when I told her that I did, OMG.. her reaction was SO FREAKIN’ OVER THE TOP.

I mean.. ok. I know smoking is bad for you. Worse then bad. I get it. I really, really do. I know I’m setting myself up for all kinds of horrible things. And I’m NOT justifying it. I swear, I’m not. But she laid into me SO hard and SO fierce that I really just wanted say LOOK BITCH, CAN WE FOCUS ON THE PIG VIRUS HERE?

Seriously.. I felt like I was in one of the Scared Straight movies that they show teenagers about prison life.

She pulls out this paper with information on the patch and the gum and the things you suck on that will help you quit smoking and wouldn’t get off the subject until I agreed to use one of the above to stop. I played along and went with the things you suck on because they had a coffee flavored one.

The worse part of it all… is that when she gave me the inhaler medicine and the nasal spray.. she proceeded to tell me how much they would cost if I had to go to a pharmacy and get them and that it’s just a waste to give them to me if I’m not going to stop smoking. Then she proceeds to tell me that:

• I shouldn’t even be seeing you because you don’t have insurance and it’s a big liability
• If the president’s healthcare goes through, you wouldn’t even get treatment if you had cancer because you smoke.

Now.. ok.. so since when is getting paid in cash for an office visit more of a liability then being paid for an office visit by an insurance company?

I’ve worked both sides of health care for the past 23 years :: until I got laid off :: so I know how everything works .. and trust me, it’s not the way it’s being presented to the masses.

But I’m not getting into that.. I’m too exhausted and spent to go into all that now. Maybe later.

Anyway.. so she gives me the 200.00 a month inhaler and the 150.00 nasal spray :: but come one, they were samples and didn’t cost her anything :: and then writes me a script for 7 antibiotic pills that cost me 108.00.

I know she didn’t mean to make me feel like I was a dredge of society. But she did.. she made me feel like a failure because I didn’t have health insurance. She made me feel like I was just someone who was coping free medicine. She made me feel like I wasn’t up to her standard and the only reason why she lowered herself to treat me is because her husband loves Chief’s turkey.

She literally had me in tears and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

On the way home, I told Chief that I absolutely hated him for making me go through with appointment and it was the kind of hate that would never be forgiven.

He said that was fine, as long as I was around long enough to hate him he didn’t care.

Now here’s the thing.. if you want to discuss it or debate it or whatever you can go right ahead but I’m not going to partake. I’ll just leave my 2 cents here for y’all to mull over:

If healthcare is going to be re-vamped, then it needs to be REVAMPED. You can’t half step this one. It’s so bad.. and so corrupt that it literally has to be restructured as a whole.. not bits and pieces of it.

Health Insurance should only be for long term treatments, surgeries, pregnancies and stuff like that. Everything else should be fee for service. You go to the doctors, you pay the doctor visit. If one doctor charges 50.00 a visit, then go to the one that charges 35. The fact that doctor’s do NOT see uninsured people only puts more strain on emergency rooms. We, as a country, are used to having things FAST. And I think because of that, we’ve forgotten when we really need to see a doctor. I can’t tell you how many people sat in the ER complaining of a sore throat.. or an earache.. or something really, really minor. All that did was tie up the ER and waste resources.

If the government is going to model health care on a foreign country, then they should model Italy’s. And I’m not just saying that because I’m Italian.. I’m saying that because I have relatives in Italy and we’ve had this discussion. No system is perfect. Not everybody’s “needs” will be met but we need to move away from what we think we are entitled to and get back to the way things were before we were indoctrinated with insurance is king.

Kids have all inclusive coverage from birth to age 16 .. the elderly are covered from 67 (I believe) on up.. again .. all inclusive. Or 70. I forget.

But doesn’t that make sense?

And how about this? If the government is SO amped on getting involved in this and instead of baiting and switching or money this or money that.. just open freakin’ clinics so that people who can’t afford private health care and who aren’t eligible for medicaid have a place to go to get care if they need it.

Oh.. and welfare? Yea.. make people work for it. Clean the streets.. scrub graffeti .. do what people who get community service have to do.. board up old houses for Christ sake.. something. Anything.

Benjamin Franklin said it best:

I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it. I observed…that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did for themselves, and became richer.

Okay.. I think the meds are kicking in and I’m getting all scattered over here. My apologies.. I’ll end my rant now!

Just Another Thing That’s Wrong With Me

… so more then a few years ago, I had to get a plate for three teeth on the upper right side.

This because my psychotic ex-husband landed a good on.. shattering my already weakened teeth :: the result of a bout with hep B years earlier ::

I always had good .. strong.. straight teeth but after recovering from Hep B, I realized that even if I looked at an apple, my teeth would crack. But what are you going to do. Not eat apples, that’s for sure.. or if I do, it’s nibbling with my front teeth like a rabbit.

Anyway…

So I went to the dentist :: THAT was an experience all in itself :: but the bottom line was that he made a temporary plate for me to wear until the permanent one was completed.

Wait.. let’s back up a little bit.

At the time, I had a good dental plan. But regardless of how good your plan is, very few cover the cost for what I needed done. I knew I was going to have to pay out of pocket.

Rephrase: I knew I was going to have to pay BIG TIME out of pocket

And that was fine. Expected, even.

So at the start of my “care”, I tell both the dentist and the office manager that I was on a limited budget and I needed to know what any copays were due so that I could schedule the appointments around my pay periods… or at least monthly.. bi-monthly.. whatever.

I don’t like owing people money.. and I wanted to make sure that they got paid.

Understood.

So after each appointment for the root canals and extractions and whatever the hell else I had to get, I would ask the office manager what I could be expecting money-wise. And after each visit she would say “… oh, nothing right now. But I will certainly let you know in plenty of time.”

Cool.

So I get the temporary plate :: which isn’t really a plate. It’s just three pretend teeth formed and shaped out off “teeth” material and popped into the space where my real teeth were :: and as I’m making my next appointment the office manager INFORMS me that before the dentist could insert my permanent fake teeth, I need to pay the $1600.00 balance.

Um.

Excuse Me?

I mean…

WHAT?????????

What do you mean BALANCE??

This caused a whole big bruhaha that I’m not going to go into :: mainly because it’s been so long ago that I can’t remember verbatim and secondly, I just don’t feel like reliving it :: but the bottom line was that I wasn’t going to get the permanent one’s until everything was paid up.. Remember, this does NOT include the permanent teeth/plate/bridge .. whatever the hell you call it.

I didn’t have that much money to give to the dentist. In fact, I had asked if there was a way to make installment payments and she said there was but that by the time I paid it off, my gums were going to change.. meaning the permanent plate already molded wouldn’t fit and I would have to start the process over again costing me more money.

I realize it was her attempt to get the money as soon as possible. And I don’t really blame them.. but I still feel that if they would have done what I had asked from the beginning, they would have had their money.. I would have had my teeth and I would sitting here writing about something else.

Or maybe not.

That whole “Butterfly Effect”, yknow…

All that to say that since I’ve gotten the temporary teeth/plate/ bridge :: can we just refer to them at TEETH from now on? It’s starting to get confusing! :: they’ve been in my mouth.

They weren’t suppose to last this long but knock wood, they have. Although I don’t do any hard chewing or grinding on that side so there isn’t alot of wear and tear but still.. it’s been at least 9 years or so?

The thing about them though is that they don’t come out. Well.. that’s not all together true. They DO .. but only at inopportune times or when I forget and since my teeth into a doughy bagel. But it’s not like I can take them out daily and soak them in that stuff like you see the old people doing on commercials.

Because of that, I’m always diligent about making sure my teeth are brushed. Especially since the psychotic ex-husband knew it was my weakness and played on it constantly.. giving me some sort of a little complex.

Fast foward to the day of my grandmom’s funeral.

Me and Chief stopped at a local convenience store to get cigarettes and I bought a pack of Strawberry Mint Orbit gum :: because it don’t stick to my fake teeth! :: and he bought a thing of Tic-Tacs.

Roughly 4 or so hours after we had woken up that morning, he leans over to me in the church pew:

HIM: Here, take a mint

ME: No thanks

HIM: No. Really. Take a mint

ME: (gasp) Do I really need one?

HIM: Yea. Badly.

ME: (gasp again) But I was just chewing on Orbit!

HIM: Here. Take. The. Mint.

Needless to say, I was mortified. Beyond mortified, actually. But I thought that maybe it had something to do with the Strawberry Mint Orbit Gum because I never thought there was an issue before and the only gum I chew is usually NOT fruit flavored.. so I let it pass.

This morning, around 4:30am, Chief rolls over on top of me and one thing led to another and we did what married people usually do early on Sunday mornings.

Well.. maybe not everybody but do I REALLY need to spell it out for you :: wink.. wink!! ::

Afterwards, I walked around the bed on my way to the bathroom and he started to say, “.. Don’t take this the wrong way or anything..”

My immediate response was, “.. here it comes”

I don’t know why I said that.. it literally just slipped out of my mouth.. but he went on to say that sometime today, “.. you really should clean your plate. Your breath is atrocious. It’s been that way”

Atrocious?

ATROCIOUS?

BEEN THAT WAY?

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD!!!

Punching me square in my chest wouldn’t have taken the breath away that much.

Mind you.. in his defense, he didn’t say it to be mean like my psychotic ex would. But OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD!!! We just did the nasty and our faces were less then an inch apart!! OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD!!!

I was mortified. Felt horribly embarrassed. I immediately went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth SO hard and with SO much toothpaste that I’ll probably end up with chemical burns. I was literally almost throwing up brushing my tongue so hard.

All this while fighting back tears.. which made my nose run.. which made my sinus’ leak into the back of my mouth.

Wonderful.

Simply wonderful!

I went back in the bedroom and got back into bed.. with my back towards him and not opening my mouth. At all.

But I couldn’t get back to sleep.

So at 5:30am, I got in the car and drove to the 24hr Walgreen’s. :: Thank GOD for 24 hour Walgreen’s :: and bought a HUGE bottle of Listerine.

When I got back, I stayed out in the living room because.. I don’t know why exactly. I just couldn’t go back into the bedroom. About an hour or so later, he comes out and said something about me not being able to get back to sleep.

I shrugged so that my dragon breath wouldn’t sear across the room and singe his bald head.

He said, “.. you know, I have the stuff to clean the plate with.”

I said, “.. I can’t take it out. It only comes out once in a while by accident.”

He said, “.. I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything.”

I said, “I know you weren’t.”

He said, “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

I said, “Ok”

So off to the bedroom he went.

Now I have this phobia. And the worse part is … since being laid off, I don’t have any dental coverage now. Not even crappy dental coverage. So even if I did have extra money hanging around to go to the dentist, it would cost me even MORE.

Since I don’t, it’s a mute point.

Just add THIS to the list of things that make me feel inept.

Wonderful.