The Hunt for Picante Sauce

The hunt for Picante sauce

I was in severe pain last night after taking my night time dose of pain meds. It wasn’t even two mins in my system when I moved to lay down that my ankle exploded in severe pain. It was then the waiting game of what to do/take. I was up till around 4. Around 3 I got hungry and heated up the breakfast burrito I made a few days ago. I wanted something spice and found a packet of picante sauce from McDonalds. YES! It was so good. My belly was full and I was able to get to sleep, though it wasn’t restful as I kept waking up every couple of hours, with my med alarm scaring the crap out of me. I would have stayed in bed but I had to see my therapist. I woke up shortly after 11 so there was no chance of a shower. I went downstairs to brush my teeth and use the bathroom. My mother made pancakes and saved me some. I took them with me to have at Starbucks with my much needed espresso.

I got to Starbucks and had 5 shots of espresso and the pancakes. It was good. I then wrote in my journal until it was time to leave for my therapist’s office. It was bloody cold but I was wearing a heavy sweatshirt and that made me sweat. My ankle was still bothering me so I took a strong pain pill to keep it quiet. In my Painsomnia state, I had written an email to my psychiatrist that was basically telling her I was going through with Plan A. She had responded with some weird inquiries so I had some explaining to do. We exchanged emails and I think everything is sorted. Not quite sure though as she never responded with my last email.

I went to my therapist’s office and session went well. He was surprised that the pain doc and my PCP had decided to go collaborate and not include me in the conversation. It is still a mystery why my psychiatrist needs to be involved. I asked him if the LGBT doc had been in touch with him and he said that they were looking for my entire record from him. He didn’t send it because he wanted to talk to me first and I am glad he did because I do not want them to have the record. They may talk to him, but I do not want what we talk about to be shared. He said that he is willing to write a letter if they need it but it will cost me. I am not worried about that. He said he would prefer a phone call. I agreed. So Friday when I meet with the doc, I will ask him what he wants with my therapist. As of yet, the LGBT doc has not contacted my psychiatrist. I have no idea if he got my medical records or what. Now I am really nervous about the appt.

I am on the fence on moving forward with my transition because of my plan. I am going to send my PCP a message about what he plans on doing with my pain meds. I am planning on picking up the script on Wed, if they are ready. After therapy, I went on my picante sauce hunt. I went to the grocery store at the Square and they had shit selection but no picante sauce. The eggs were also up thirty cents since I bought them Saturday. I went to another grocery store and they had the picante sauce! Yay! I bought three dozen eggs and a half gallon of juice, my kind as the one my sister bought my mother sucks. It is from concentrate and I like it not from concentrate. It just tastes better. I got home and had to shower. I was sweating and because I was holding my urine, I leaked pretty good. I felt gross. I knew my ankle wasn’t going to like it but that is what pain meds were for.

After the shower, I had dinner that my mother made. Then she yelled at me because I spent so much on the eggs. I should have destroyed the receipt but I forgot I left it in the bag. It wasn’t even her money! She said she wasn’t sending me shopping anymore. Fine. Whatever. I don’t give a shit. You buy your eggs and I’ll buy mine!

I just made a cup of orange spice tea and I am going to relax the rest of the night. My back and ankle are killing me. I hope I am not up all night again. I need to clean out my backpack and find out what the hell is so damn heavy. I think I am going to switch to my messenger bag. It is time for a change anyway. Time to rock the Pearl Jam bag!

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