This is my angry face, which I rarely wear. As I dressed for this selfie, I picked out the aggressive-est, angriest-looking Face Mask o’ the Day I could find, because I wanted you to know I’m steaming. I also wore a mask because didn’t want to take a chance you’d see me mouthing any vulgarities while I’m in this mood. I chose to wear my deviled egg Tie o’ the Day because I wanted to put the words “devil,” “pitchfork,” and “Hell” into your mind so you wouldn’t miss my point: I’m angry. Anger is not a mode I’ve ever chosen to spend much time in, so it’s decidedly foreign to me. In fact, I don’t like visiting it one bit. Anger is my least favorite country, although I’m comfortable in righteous anger when it is called for.
Anyhoo… I got a call from my surgeon this morning, telling me my surgery has to be postponed for 4-6 weeks. It seems there are no empty hospital beds available at Huntsman Cancer Hospital right now, because of the added COVID-19 patients who currently occupy them. I say this in hashtag lingo with all respect and humility, folks, on behalf of everyone who has had to postpone their necessary medical procedures this past year: #getvaxxedandwearyourmaskspeoplesoyouandothersdonthavetosufferneedlessly #ifeverypersonhaddonetheirpartatthebeginningofthepandemicthiscouldhavebeenovermonthsago
To put it less nicely—and more in line with the depth of my truly angry feelings about having to postpone my much-needed, long-awaited surgery, let me just say this about how I feel: @#%&#%!*+ !#E@$*^*!!# @$@$##$*$% ^&*^@$^ *^@ ^*&^$ @#*#%@# @$$*%^!#. (I apologize if I hurt your ears with that rant.)
Ah! I feel much less angry after getting that off my chest. Now, I’m merely discouraged as 💩. 😷💉
