That time yesterday when I couldn't have an good old all-out feel sorry for myself cry? That's all over now.
Gary and I were discussing my health concerns I was having my health concerns dismissed by Gary and he said "... and frankly, I think it's just grotesque you're having some woman massage your vagina!" ("MY vagina!" Gary's penis said loudly.)
And then the term hypochondriac was tossed around, then I said several hypothetical insulting things about his epilepsy (prefaced by "How would you feel if," which does make it hypothetical, only, not really.)
So I am ignoring my hot red hard lump in my calf (deep vein thrombosis) and my squeaky exhalation sounds (pneumonia) and my not paying attention when I drink fluids (dysphagia).
I mean, for fuck's sake. It's hard enough to take care of myself without someone saying I'm taking too much care of myself.