Been Here And Keep Doing That

Walking The Halls Of A VA Hospital

I have been wanting to write this entry for a few weeks now, but today I’m sitting down to actually do it. Its going to be allot food for thought, my personal observations, and about something that was said to me that I really did not appreciate one damn bit. It may seem as though I am ranting, which it is a little, but more venting than anything else. Before this year my dealings with the Veterans Administration (VA) has been very limited because other than receiving a check every month and my initial VA home loan I haven’t had a real need. Regulars here over the years know I am a retired disabled Air Force veteran who participated in Desert Storm and The Liberation of Kuwait back in the 90s. I am disabled with a 100% rating yet I have worked full time ever since the day I left the Air Force. Hell, the first time I visited the VA Medical Center here in Houston for my own personal needs was in February of this year (2014). There is but only one way to get into the VA medical system and that is to visit a medical center and take a fucking number.

Since that little adventure I have returned a handful of times and also to the VA clinic in Conroe where my PCP is located. My reasons were simple for beginning this journey so many years after my departure from the Air Force. First because my service related injury to continue care and because of needing diabetes medication. Both became an instant need once I was laid off in February this year. Never underestimate the need of private insurance and the amount of the financial burden it actually covers. I still had the needs I had beforehand, just now without insurance. So, I made a choice, and that choice was to start using my VA privileges for the first time. The inside of a VA hospital is a disheartening sight because inside a VA hospital is where one can see the cost of freedom just by witnessing the people visiting the hospital that day for their needs and services. I wondered the first time, just looking around, why in the fuck I am here. But, now I am a part of the “system”, I wait in line, I take a number, and I try to be patient while waiting for my turn. My point is simple really, the men and women, active or veteran, who are seen within the walls of a VA hospital are there because they have paid in one way, form, or fashion, that many of us have no way of understanding, whether it is mental or physical or a combination of both, because unless we are in that person’s shoes we can never know.

Everyday I grow a little more impatient with people who, in my opinion, are very self centered. Why? Let’s use a very recent example which happened to me back in April. My wife and I had pulled into a very crowded parking lot of a local supermarket on a Sunday around the time the local churches have been letting out. We maneuver around the parking lot in my Hummer H1 looking for a spot. My wife sees a handicap space has opened up and has told me where to go. As I signal that I am turning in to the vehicles around me a woman in a brand new Cadillac Escalade comes down the row against traffic, meaning she was coming down the one way lane the wrong way, and attempts to cut me off and take the spot. So, I approached her Escalade rather aggressively to see if she would back off. To my surprise, a 20ish woman jumps out of the driver’s door yelling and screaming at me to get the fuck out of her parking space. Pause a moment. Upon review of her vehicle I see she still has dealer paper plates a a red handicap tag (in Texas a red tag is very temporary) hanging from her mirror. For ten minutes she yelled at me, cursed at me, and scolded me. Then, then she showed her ass by asking why in the fuck I was even trying to park there since I don’t even have handicap plates or a placard. It is true, everything she said, except the fact that I have DV (disabled veteran handicap logoed) license plates. She had no idea what they are and proceeds to lecture me (the person with visible scarring on both knees, one being from a knee replacement) on the purpose and design of a handicap parking space. Since I was in the space, since I was done talking, I locked up the H1, and proceeded to go inside to go shopping. Meanwhile, she calls the police so they can have my vehicle towed (which never happened). When we came out about 25 minutes later she had moved her vehicle out of the drive so others could pass. Except now she was in the backseat of the police cruiser screaming at the officer. The verdict? She was in possession of an expired tag (new date was written over the old), her drivers license was already suspended, and the temporary dealer tags were also expired by two months. She was arrested and her Escalade was towed. That’s the end of what I know or want to know about her.

Is there a moral to this story? Who really knows. I do know that before she tried to be a fraud, a cheat, and a liar, that should actually know what in the fuck she is yelling about. I have no time for people like her. If she would have just asked me to let her have the spot politely it would have been all hers, no explanation needed because I wasn’t in such a great hurry and my doctor says a little walking on occasion won’t kill me. I’m easy like that. Blow up in my face and I make it hard because I will just walk away from the bullshit. I love people, especially the clueless ones because they make the world go round. I wondered, after the fact, why she had so many things going wrong for her and all I came up with is, to me and in my own opinion, that she had a poor and negative attitude. Personally, I doubt she will ever get her shit together and be a functional adult in society, but that is just my opinion based on one brief encounter with her. How can I really now anyways.

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Imagine The World Without Fucktards

I imagine the world without fucktards every once in a while, then I am reminded somehow that the rest of the world needs fucktards, because every person on the planet wants to know what runs through a fucktards mind from time to time. Personally, I don’t want to spend any time whatsoever in the deep reaches of the interworking of the brain of any particular fucktards. I have noticed that there has become an increased number of fucktards in my life lately. Why? Maybe it is the places I have been visiting, and that isn’t just limited to the federal, state, and local government offices I have had to visit for reasons that I have been mentioning in the past. I will get into that in more detail as I go along. I have a trio for y’all today since I found a way to kill three birds with one stone, rather, as it would be, I ended up pissing in the bowls of a few fucktards bowl of Wheaties this morning for no more reason than what had to be said or done had to be said and done. So, let’s begin.

First stone was at the VA Medical Center in Hoiston to pick up my insulin that has been claimed to be undeliverable to the same address that ALL my other medications were mailed to and received. It was said to be attempted to deliver twice and returned twice for wrong address. Meaning, some fucktard dropped the ball twice and to cover his/her ass put in the false information. How do I know? When I asked what the tracking numbers assigned to the shipment by the VA and by the post office there were none to be found. Caught you bitches in two lies which upsets a fucktards. Then, for the cherry on top, they give me a 30 day supply not my ordered 90 day supply which means I get to play this fucked up game once again. Then, since I have yet to get my new glucose meter I went to the diabetic education office to speak with the head cheese to finally get it. Oops, she retired last month but absolutely nobody on the planet knows this except her. Did I get my meter? No, because the office will remain closed indefinitely until she is replaced. Really frustrated, I now leave the medical center before I really end up choking some random fucker for no other reason than it would feel real good to me at this point.

Since I was downtown I went to go pick up some hot rod remote control truck parts I bought from a dealer on line. When I get there to pick up my $327.67 order I was informed by this young smart mouth fucktards that since I did not pick up my order within the prescribed 24 period that my items were restocked and sold. As I explained to this dumbass, I ordered my items online Wednesday @ 8:13 pm for in store pickup at the very store I was standing in this morning. But wait, there a catch, they are only open Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Even though I repeatedly contested based on this information he was not going to refund my money unless I paid the $75.00 restocking fee first. Really. I will admit, I let him piss me off, I raised my voice quite a bit and was throwing the word (in many variations) fun k like today WS the last day I could ever use it. It got the attention of the store owner, someone I have known for some 20 plus years who came over to inform me that the kid was new and my order was safe and sound. He asked if I still wanted it and I of course did so he went to retrieve it for me. To “smooth things over” I think, he gave me a $100.00 gift voucher to be used with in the next year in store only. We spoke for a bit more and then I grabbed my order and left. It left me thinking, what would the fucktards kid have done if the owner wasn’t there? He would have laid on the floor lifeless because he forced me to choke the dieing breath out of him for pissing me off beyond personal control. Would that be a good defense, hypothetically, when I was charged with the murder of a fucktards? I would be doing the would a favor, right?

Thirdly I ddropped into see the owner of the strip club I was formally employed with part time because she owed me $600.00 for some work I did for her personally at her house last month as a paid favor. I won’t get into what I was doing for her but it put me out around $250.00 in supplies that I paid for in advance. She said she would pay me later because when I went to settle she attempted to give me a check for something she agreed to pay cash for. I am easy so I accepted waiting. I don’t get to this side of town any more so I figured I would stop by the office to get paid. You’ll never guess, she didn’t have the cash on her even though I contacted her yesterday afternoon to let her know I was coming by to collect. Well, I guess it was the wrong answer. I hung out for 15 minutes while she ran to the bank. She brought be back $500.00 dollars, her ATM cash limit to give to me and I took a $100.00 check so I wouldn’t be forced to come back. Yeah me! I am such a nice guy. I then left, heading home. Pissed off with my morning I totally forget to go to the bank and I realize this as I look on the table in front of me and see her check.

In the end I did kill three birds with one stone. Those three birds also got a big fat bird from me to salute their pure and utter fucktardedness. They fight a good fight and stay true to their cause and for that I always feel inclined to give them my favorite one finger salute. Well, the VA got a single finger fuck you salute from each hand this morning because really, really deserved it.