After getting over the initial shock of having to expose my cancer- ignoring the last column altogether, I lightly checked off cancer and went to the next page.

Medications. It was at this point in the dreaded forms where I actually considered getting up and going home with my shitty arms, to my shitty car to my shitty, rodent filled home. Instead, I just wrote: chemo and flipped the page. Why do they need to know the ins and out of my medication drama? How would me taking anything for column three have Jack Shit to do with treating me with physical therapy?

So, that was that … Until my person came over to now ask more questions, since the five page form I avoided wasn’t enough.

Her: So what brings you here?

Me: (MOG… Mother of Gd) I wrote it; it’s in there.

Her: Yes, Bursitis.

Me: (starting off fucking great) I had my shot… as you can read, and I am feeling a lot better.

Her: Good, good. Okay, let’s just go through some of the things you filled out… Do you have any headaches or vision problems?

Me: (starting off lying; my headaches are inconsequential) Nope.

Her: Any trouble breathing when you do certain things?

Me: (Don’t breathe!) Nope.

Her: Okay… and you don’t have any medical conditions like heart disease or lung issues…

Me: (Now or never!) I didn’t say I didn’t have lung issues.

Her: (alarmed) What type of lung issues, like asthma?

Needless to say, when the lion climbed out of the bag, she gave me a nice, long massage.