Back to the ENT today. I have this increasing suspicion that this guy doesn't quite know what he's talking about. He keeps changing the name of my cyst. First, he said it was a branchial cleft cyst and now he's calling it a thyroglossal duct cyst and next thing you know he's going to claim the squishy ball in my throat is my dead twin brother's testicle, the only remnants of him from the womb when I absorbed him into myself, via Vanishing Twin Syndrome. Also, when we first talked about treatment options, he said excising the cyst wouldn't be a problem and it would leave a very light scar. Next appointment, he says it will leave a big scar and it could possibly damage my vocal cords. Now, not only is he saying it will leave a big scar but it could possibly reoccur, which would require another surgery to remove it. I don't know if he's getting his diagnoses mixed up or if he's learning more information as we continue to meet or if he's just down right making it up as he goes along but the constantly changing information makes me uneasy. At the same time, I'm kind of tired and in no mood to see another doctor. I've resigned myself to the fact that the lump will probably never go away. He'll continue suggesting new treatments and I may or may not try them, depending on what I can afford, and I suppose we'll see how it goes.
And let me just reiterate how fast this guy talks. Every time those white flecks of saliva start getting worked up in the corners of his mouth, I know he's really going on a tangent. I almost want to hold my hands out and beg him to slow down before his teeth fly out of his face. And today, he told me his son's friend accepted a full scholarship to SCAD in Atlanta. I died a little inside from envy. The then went on to mention me to this person and how I have been struggling to find a job, which segued into him going on about politics. I checked out during his spiel because a) I don't know anything about politics and would have been lost and b) I hate politics. Everyone who is into politics thinks they have the solution the world's problems and I find it annoying.
After he got back on topic, I snapped to attention as he went on to tell me what I was allergic to. I was tested for twenty-three allergens and came out allergic to fifteen of them, all to varying degrees. I was dismayed to find that I'm allergic to dogs! And 3 out of 5 allergic, too, so it's not anything minor. I'm also allergic to pecan trees. We only have about seven in our backyard! Obviously, I can never go outside and pet my dog or sit under a tree ever again. I kid but it's still troubling. I'm also allergic to ragweed, pigweed, all kinds of grass and even the occasional cockroach. It seems the worst offender is dust mites. 5 out of 5. But, there is some good news! I'm glad to report I am zero allergic to cladosporium herbarum and aspergillus fumigatus! What a relief, eh? Oh yeah, and I am zero allergic to my cat. So, that's cool. The doc wants to put me on some hardcore allergy drops in hopes that not only will I be able to interact with my dog again, but that the reduction of mucus will hopefully reduce the lump. I'm not very hopeful. But, what the hey, let's give it a whirl.
In other breaking news, I did not hear back from any job that I applied to when I was visiting my sister. What...a freaking waste of time/disappointment. I mean, I didn't even get a call back to be a cashier at Old Time Pottery! Come on! Any unmarried seventeen-year-old mother can be a cashier at Old Time Pottery. And not to brag but my application was flawless. You couldn't tell the difference between the print on the application and my own writing. I even included my resume. And nothing. Some have suggested it's because of my college degree. These places must think I'm overqualified. I have a problem with this. Yes, I do understand the concept of being overqualified but it still ticks me off. I realize that by me taking a job at, let's say McDonalds, I would be depriving some young punk with no work experience the opportunity to be employed there. Since I'm more educated, I should be able to find a better job, right? Well, let's not forget that I graduated at a really bad time. The economy is in the pooper so the fact that I'm even applying to McDonalds should probably tell the hiring manager something, ya know? If I was the hiring manager and had to choose between some sixteen-year-old douche with a bad attitude or someone with a degree of any kind, I'd be going for the one with the degree because I know between the two of them, the person with the degree will probably be responsible, on time and dedicated to doing a good job. I mean, you can't get a degree unless you possess these traits. And for fast food, I wouldn't feel too bad for that kid 'cause there are plenty of other establishments he could apply to. There's a Starbucks on every corner nowadays. Barista it up, bud, I'm snagging someone with school smarts!
So, I was thinking I should leave my SCAD time off my resume. If I do that, I'll have three years unaccounted for. What would I say I was doing the whole time? Maybe I could say I impregnated three different girls and really need the job to pay all my baby mamas? I honestly don't know what to do. I'm not good enough to get a job in animation but I'm overqualified for everything else. It's frustrating and the part that makes me the angriest is that I can do any job here as long as I get the proper training. I'm not saying I can do any job ever but we aren't exactly dealing with rocket science in the deep south. Customer service, cashiering, banking and serving food and drinks are pretty much my only options and I'm confident that I can do it all yet these a-holes don't think so. I just need monies, dang it. I'm capable. I'm educated. I'm dedicated. I can do whatever you throw at me. I don't understand the problem.
I have to fill in three years with some kind of experience. I could say I traveled. I wouldn't technically be lying. I did travel back and forth for school. Ugh. I need suggestions. Halp!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
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