The few times that we've had to bring Monkey to the vet, she makes the most pitiful sound. If we could translate it into English, I'm pretty sure she's saying, "Why are you doing this to meeeeee?" These days, to be perfectly frank, I'm feeling the same way. My mom's widower health insurance plan abruptly changed this year, which has spelled disastrous with her chronic health conditions. Since I'm in charge, I've spent countless hours on the phone, figuring things out with doctor's offices and insurance agents. There's also disability and grant applications and sheaths of paperwork. I know it's all relative, but it's been stressful dealing with that on top of my usual stuff. Since I don't want to complain too much in real life, I figure this blog is a good enough place to vent. So: BLAH. UGH. BOO. GAHH. I'm hoping, like Monkey's trips to the vet, this is all for best and I'll wind up stronger on the other side.
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