Um....why the fuck are you here???

This was the question i asked of people today, through a vicious glare at rehab, as I tried to wrangle my way to the weights 'table'/'giant bench' that you're supposed to sit on to lift weights. 3 people at a time can fit on it if you squeeze, but it's extremely difficult when people feel the need to bring their entire family into the physio room, and it's even more rage-inducing when they all crowd around the weights section to watch you.

WHY!? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO WATCH YOUR SICKLY FAMILY MEMBER FEEBLY ATTEMPT TO LIFT A 5lb WEIGHT 10x's WHEN THERE'S DICK ALL YOU CAN DO!?!?!!

Fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My god i fucking hate people sometimes! Honest to god, is it THAT necessary to bring everyone and their dog to physio?? NO. IT'S FUCKING NOT!!!

*freaks out*

Anyways...

I saw Ray today. I set down my purse before i came within close proximity as to not thump him another good one in the chest in a repeat of last week's horrifying events. Ray laughed and assured me he was a-ok, by lifting his shirt and showing me his staple-free incision. It's healed so well! It's roughly the colour of the letters i'm typing in, and being a mere 3-4 weeks post-tx, and being over the age of 60, that's pretty fucken awesome if i do say so myself. The fact that my 30lbs Guess purse swung around with enough force to crack his sternum and actually hit him, but didn't leave any damage, is astounding. Way to go Ray! I completely forgot what i was going to say about you...

I am exhausted. I have finally concluded that i'm in fact getting sick so i am succumbing to guilt and calling in to get a prescription for tetra something filled tomorrow.

That's about it.

*crossing fingers she gets the call soon!*