so yesterday i'm at work bathing my 3:30 appointment, a standard poodle mix named jacques. he's quite the sweetheart and perhaps is the exception to my rule to hate all doodles. he's a sweetheart, and he can't help it stupid people made him a mutt and are making themselves look stupid trying to make him an AKC standard breed.
(for those of you unfamiliar with the dog world or its lingo and nicknames, "doodles" is the unofficial nickname for any breed mixed with a poodle. e.g. labradoodles, goldendoodles, schnoodles, stupiddoodles... except for "yorkiepoos." UGH.)
and no shit, there i was, rinsing off his beautiful head with his warm hazel eyes, and suddenly i'm doubled over in piercing lower abdomen pain. i shut off the water --ever the desert creature, brainwashed at an early age to cringe at all waste of water-- and collapsed against the wall. this was, like, holy-shit-i'm-freaking-OUT kind of pain. i went into mild shock kinda pain.
i put jacques the doodle away in his kennel soaking wet, poor thing, and apologized profusely. but i was also sweating and shaking, the pain was so bad, and i hoped he'd understand. then i just headed for the back, because if i was gonna puke, dammit i was gonna puke in a toilet and not all over the floor.
i made a beeline for the door through the salon, doubled over, and the acting manager (since the manager lady got herself transferred due to Stupid Political Crap at work) and one of the other groomers asked if i was okay, what was the matter? i gasped out an, "i have no idea" and kept walking. i was fucking scared.
with no luck in the bathroom, with both of those groomers' help, i made it to the break room and just sat for a while until the world stopped spinning. i'd say i was sweating like a pig, but pigs don't sweat. my general manager and one of the floor managers were there, and they asked if i was okay. the GM left, but said he'd check on me later. being the stubborn bitch i am, the minute i could stand mostly upright, i went back to the bathroom.
what scared me even more than BAM!-out-of-the-blue, twist-me-into-a-pretzel pain was finding blood when it's nowhere near my time of the month. some girls have the occasional spotting, some have the occasional surprise early or irregular period.
NOT ME, DAMMIT!!!!
you could set your watch by me. i'm the chick everybody hates. no cramps, no spotting, no bloating, no soreness, and in three days i'm done. sometimes less than that. yeah, i'll get antsy a week before and crave spaghetti like nobody's business, but so what? so i get to make my fan-fucking-tastic delena spaghetti once a month and everybody benefits! this doesn't happen to me, dammit!!
of course, the only thing going through my head was when my grandma had cancer and this was how it started. she's years in the grave, and it was a fucking wad of fun watching the cancer just eat her up until she wasted away and died. i was slightly scared, to say the least.
i called up my doctor, but wasn't able to get a hold of anyone until this morning. i called in to work, but my GM had left a note for the other managers that i probably wouldn't be in today and it was okay. that was thoughtful. but anyway, i spoke to a nurse, and she said it was most likely a cyst, and the bleeding? stress.
BLOODY FUCKING ZIPPY YAY YUMMY FUN.
i've never had my body react to stress like this. usually i toe the edge of a mental breakdown, have another violent flare-up of IBS, and catch some type of bug that lasts for weeks. like the flu. it's cost me a job or two in the past, because it stressed me out until my health was on the midden heap. but bleeding? yeah, let's just go from zero to scare the crap out of me in 2.5 seconds.
of course, you could say it's really my body telling me something. and i know things have sucked at work lately. i haven't written about it --which makes me feel worse, actually-- because the wrong person could read those entries and take advantage of them, and then there goes my fantastic, perfect career. and there are a few people who read this blog who are dirty enough cunts to endanger my job. i know this. i don't change what i say because i couldn't care less about it. i value my honesty, and i love this blog too much to let them keep me from shining. but i'm also not stupid, either.
i just wasn't aware that work was stressing me out this badly. something seriously needs to be done, and i think i just need to be transferred ASAFP.
at least i got to take a nap today...
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1 comment:
sorry, sweetie. work stress sucks, especially political bullshit.
funny, in a not-the-least-bit-funny kinda way, i'm the ibs/ faux-flu symptom stresser myself. i haven't managed to bleed from stress yet though, and i'm not quite sure where it would come from in my case. lol.
can you transfer to the place your old manager went? otherwise, i know how much this job means to you, but if taking care of your health means temporarily finding something else until you can transfer, then you need to do it. because your health isn't just about you anymore.... you've got a future kidlet to think about.
*hugs and love*
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