Shitty Birthday

Today has been one of the shittiest birthdays I’ve had since . . . well, last year. That was pretty bad because we were facing eviction and the landlord threatened as much when we called her out on all the rats and bugs and mold.

This year, though, it’s been even more special. Right before heading to bed last night, I found out that a friend from high school passed away earlier in the day. She and I were arrested together in the 1992 Broad Ripple sweep.

Then I discover that both my remaining grandparents’ health is declining dramatically. My grandfather is in a nursing home and has suddenly lost the ability to get in and out of bed on his own, bathe himself, or even feed himself. My grandmother (from the other side of the family) apparently had skin cancer removed from her arm and it isn’t healing properly, but she won’t go to the doctor because her regular doctor is on vacation until the end of the month? What the fuck?

Then I spend all day waiting to hear the results from my biopsy that took place on Monday. I called yesterday. The nurse calls at 1:30 to say I’ll hear from the doctor later on. No one calls me. I call this morning. Nothing. I call this afternoon. The nurse finally calls again around 4pm to say I “might” hear from the doctor this weekend if she “does homework,” otherwise, the doctor won’t be back in until Tuesday. But I can call on Monday if I want to.

Jesus. 

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