Healthy Update

UPDATE!

Got a call from the doctor who treated me for Good Tyme Lyme (that sounds like a new color of a Crayola crayon--or something you put in a margarita). And guess what? Remember how we weren't QUITE sure if it really was really REALLY Lyme disease because the blood tests came back negative?

Well, you can all breathe a sigh of relief because the blood test they did the day they gave me the antibiotics came back WAY positive. The lab technician also mentioned something about the bacteria having a huge party and dancing to Michael Jackson's disco albums.

I told the doctor the "day three and pox-free" thing and she was really happy the antibiotics were working so well. I think she was excited that it actually was the dreaded Lyme disease after all and not something boring like hay fever. The fact that we caught it super-fast was even cooler.

So yep. Turns out I was absolutely right in my diagnosis/paranoid suspicions. Thanks, internets! Maybe I should add "Web M.D." to my name.

And you know, this whole thing makes me wonder...why the crap are they reforming the health care system? I mean, I don't have proper insurance like everybody else with "real" jobs, I have this green card that says "self pay" that ACTS like insurance. I use it exclusively at this Hell's Kitchen clinic. So all I do is flash this card, pay $40, and I can be seen and treated rather quickly for Lyme disease.

So yeah. It's not ideal, what with the occasional runaway taxi and falling pianos, but then again, I always look both ways when I cross the street so I'm not THAT worried.

If they have a Health Care Tea Party in New York, somebody sign me up. I can't imagine what would have happened if I had to wait nine months to see a doctor.

This guy is kind of a freak, but the video is pretty interesting.




In other news, it looks like Nutty is going to have to call up Yoko and figure out some new living arrangements because this little Forky is going Wii Wii Wii all the way to a new studio apartment.

Well, to be perfectly accurate, I MIGHT be moving to a new apartment. I'll find out in two or three hours once the credit checks go through. Other than that, it just depends on what the landlady thought of me in the little "interview" we had this morning and if she thinks I'll be a good fit in the building.

Mom and Dad Fourchette were good enough to act as guarantors. If you have a guarantor, they pretty much don't care about YOU unless you seem like a dirty, bugle-playing drug addict with four labradors.

If everything goes through I'll post another update with all the deets on this place. No sense in typing it all up if Yolanda is just gonna call and say, "I sorry, is no good for joo." Let's just say, it's so practically perfect in every way, I almost wonder if there isn't something DREADFULLY wrong with the place. Like dead kittens hidden in the floorboards or something.

It's right behind the Midtown offices for the Church of Scientology. The comic potential here is a little mind-boggling.