Yesterday, I had the urge to punch somebody in the nose. Besides being assault, which is illegal, it's certainly out side of my usual charecter, and not very Quakerly. But, really, I was seeing red.

I took Mrs. C.B. to her foot doctor. Her foot isn't really getting better, and the last time we went, she asked me what I thought of her getting a 2nd opinion. I said that, if she didn't feel like this doctor's treatment was working it was wise to see someone else. "Well, maybe he was having a bad day. I'll give him another chance." she said, in classic Mrs. C.B. style.

This time, she gave me an aweful look in the lobby and started crying as soon as we left. "He yelled at me! He says it's my fault my foot isn't getting better. He said I'm not following my diet."

"What do you mean not following your diet? How would he know?"

"He says I have to stay off my feet. How am I gonna do that and take care of my husband? I told him I don't understand why he won't give me an antibiotic: it's infected. He says it's infected. He says I need surgery. I don't want to go back to him!"

"Okay, well, when we get back to your place call your family doctor and get her opinion about it. You don't have to see anybody you're not comfortable with."

I happen to know that Mrs. C.B. does follow her diet, a lot better than most people I know with diabetes. Anybody can have a bad day, but there are certain professions and lines of work ( in fact, most of them, in my opinion) where you can't let that affect your job. I don't know that, strictly speaking he "yelled" at Mrs. C.B. but he certainly must have spoken to her very sharply, and the worst part, the thing that gave me the split second urge to jump out of the car, go back in the office and give him a piece of my mind if not a knuckle sandwhich, was that Mrs. C.B. is in no position to fight back. She can't see, she can't walk, and she's trying to take care of her husband who has alzhiemers. I realize this Doctor is a little Asian guy, but he still ought to pick on somebody his own size. What a nightmare!

Eventually, Mrs. C.B. got an appointment with another foot doctor, whom I hope will do her some good. She's all worked up about it. The new doctor is on the other side of the square in Hanover. She's afraid we won't be able to find it.

"We'll be able to find it. We'll leave early, so we get there in plenty of time -"

"I heard traffic is really bad through the square!"

"It's not that bad. We'll get there."

"I've never been there before. It's so much further. What if they don't have a handicapped zone?"

"It's only a few more miles up the road. It's not that far. They'll have a handicapped zone, that's the law. We'll leave extra early so we get there in time."

Etc. People don't realize all the harm they can do when they're just "blowing off steam".

They should smash up their lawn furniture, like I did!

In other news, Vio-kitty's blood test looks much worse than Vio-kitty herself does. I went to the vet and picked up medication for her and gave the vet techs an Avon catalog. (I'll give an Avon catalog to anyone who is not moving fast enough to get out of the way) Really, I was a little taken aback, since she seems so much improved. I hope this isn't just a temporary repreive. But I've decided to believe the cat more than I believe the vet, and think she really is getting better. Now she has an antibiotic and some vitamen drops. And she let The Hub give them to her with no problem. I was amazed.

Dad says something is wrong with my right rear tire. I stopped by the police barrack to find out if they could give me a copy of my speeding ticket, since I can't find mine. When I walked in, the sargent behind the desk was pantomiming shooting someone in the back office, which gave me a little start. Clearly he wasn't expecting Jane Q. Public to come wandering in the door right at that moment. But still. If he's supposed to be protecting me, who's protecting me from him? He was kidding around of course. Well, I guess I can't talk, since I was ready to blow off some steam on Dr. Wu ( not his real name, of course)

Oh, and after 4 months I finally went to the cable company in person to tell them I'm not going to pay the bill they keep sending me because I cancelled the service in March. While I was there, I made them show me how to disconnect the cable box so I can bring it over there myself. This was my 27th documented contact with Adelphia Cable trying to resolve this issue: every other time they said they'd send somebody to get the box. Good thing I didn't take them seriously and wait around during those all day appointments ( they were supposed to call my cell phone first. No one ever did) Now, if the police sargent was in THERE pantomiming shooting somebody I'd have been a lot less surprised than I was at the police barrack.

By the way, all of this meaningless activity took up my entire day and I am just exhausted. Give me a bathroom to clean any day. Soap scum doesn't lie.