Neurology appointment.

Yay.

And have I mentioned I f'ing HATE my mother?

Yesterday, while at the Family Gathering, I asked her if she still intended to stay overnight and take me to the doctor's in the morning and to the Social Security office and then to Cambor's. She said no - big surprise, really... you notice I asked, I'd expected her to cancel last-minute again - but that she WOULD drive in to get here in time to get me to the doctor's office for the bloodwork. I have to be there between 8:00 and 10:00 am, that's when their blood lady is actually in.

I asked if she was sure, said that if she didn't think she could make it in time or if it would be trouble that I'd just take the bus out there - the MAX stop is all of a two-minute walk from the clinic. She insisted over a good half-hour's conversation that no, she would be here, it wasn't any trouble.

This morning at approximately 8:26 I called her, having not heard from her yet.

Guess what?

Yep, she's running late, and between not expecting to get here until 9:30 (and yes, it will take longer than a half-hour to get to the doctor) and complaining about how much trouble she's going to just to get here at all and how I should be thankful, I want to KILL THE STUPID BITCH.

Goddamnit, I asked her repeatedly if she could be here, I should have just said 'screw it' and gone with my instinct. I knew she'd try to fuck this up. She doesn't approve of my medication, doesn't think I NEED anti-depressants, painkillers, and anti-seizure medications, she seems to think that herbs and vitamins will somehow miraculously cure me.

ARGH.

So I said I'll just catch the max anyway, since she's running late, and she INSISTS that no, she will pick me up.

Ok.

Fine.

She'll pick me up, we'll run late enough that I'll end up having to get my blood drawn somewhere else, barely make it to the SSI office, and y'know what? Screw the IV. If she can't be troubled to get me to the things that are sort of LIFE-THREATENING to miss, I really REALLY don't have the time and patience to sit through an I.V.

Yes, I know I need it. I don't care.

The woman makes me want to go jump off a bridge.

I'm sick. Ryan's sick. I had a perfectly good plan for today, all laid out neatly, fucked up COMPLETELY by my mother's chronic lateness and stubbornness.

I HATE HER.

I ended up crashing shortly after we got back - she decided not to take us to Gresham, dropped us off with me halfway to puking and dizzy as all hell... I slept. Woke up to this.

HATE.