The crappy day was actually a crappy night. Last Thursday night (09-05-13) I was the emergent social butterfly of the season; all kinds of visitors in cool vehicles and pretty lights. While watching TV, I had suddenly started sweating, feeling dizzy, nauseous and then I had trouble breathing.
None of them would admit of their statements or put them in writing but I can't blame them for that. All the VA can do to me is kill me with institutionalized incompetence and obstructionism; VA employees have to support their families and they need jobs for that. For my part, unless I’m on fire or bleeding from the eyes, I don't go near the place. Both Moon and I know that I will never again get anything more than the bare minimum of whatever care or treatment I might need. SCVAMC is my drug pusher and that's all I want from them.
GODSDAMMIT, WHAT? Did I wash my hands? Was I Hitler? Or did I do something truly horrible; like invent polyester?
So, that errand to set up the appointment was all for naught. Had we not gone, there would have been no time or reason for Rain to take flight and bung herself up. Thus does my screwed up brain find a way to logically blame the government for killing my dog. Even I don't usually go that far but a + b does equal c.
I don't know, maybe it's my teeth.