Then a baby cries...

Okay; it's been over two months and I have no one to blame but my lazy-ass self ("self-deprication", for me, it's a good thing).

I got a job at the hospital, much better than slinging coffee or selling bicycles. I get to do the job I always wanted to do, with some great people, in a great community. I feel fufilled for the first time in a long time.

Craig and I still bitch. Not as much, it would seem. Which is funny since we quit smoking earlier this week. I think I'm just naturally part smoker. Or I've just been around it too much... it seems normal to me. I'm not craving it all the time, just with intensity for 20-30 seconds. I keep reminding myself that the reason for quitting isn't for MY health, but for any future children Craig and I should have.

...Then, just yesterday we heard the big news...

Our neighbours, Tabitha and Michael had their baby three weeks early!!! They came home yesterday after a few days in the Walkerton hospital. Calia is a beautiful teeny-little girl; with her dad's nose and her mom's mouth. I wanted to steal her and run away. It was all I could do to keep from crying. She really is the perfect baby.

Mike is acting like a different human being. He's more relaxed, probably because he's exhausted, but he's chilling out a little. He had me take photos of them at the door. The look like the perfect family.

It's only a matter of time before my biological clock starts to deafen me. The funny thing is I think Craig hears it more than I do! LOL

My point is, life keeps moving here. Not in a rush, not at a standstill. Just like a river, we all roll with it to see where we end up. I'm not scared like I was in Toronto. I make connections with people, people I can trust and respect. And I can hope and have dreams, like a little Calia of my own. Just letting myself have that thought is a step in the right direction.

This is home. I may not be a "lifer" (as they call them in-town), but this is where I'm making my life. And I love it.

oh-me, oh-migrane...

This won't likely be that long since the computer screen is making my eyes want to shrivel up and die. I just had to make a quick post... has anyone else ever been stood up at a job interview? Or am I the only one? I won't go into details but it seems the interviewer was ill and... well, just forgot I was coming in today. That makes me feel important. :-)

Craig and I are still kind of on pins and needles, but he's working today so that's kind of out of sight out of mind right now. I'm starting to think, by the things we fight about and the things he says, that I've been judging this scenario all wrong. I went for a long walk down to my interview and back (hooray for not driving), and had plenty of time alone with my iPod Shuffle to think it out.

Here are some things I think about my 'husband':

1. He loves me.
2. He loves being right almost as much.
3. He wants to make me happy.
4. He is as frustrated with the job front/hunt as I am.
5. He feels I'm unhappy with him.
6. He feels I don't pay attention to him - EVER.
7. He seems to be starting to get the impression I don't even care about him.

Here's what I know about me:

1. I love him to death and wouldn't want to be with anyone else.
2. He makes me happy. Just being near him (when we're not fighting) makes me smile.
3. I appreciate how much he puts himself out for me.
4. I let him be "right" about things I may not agree with, because I can't have discussions without arguments.
5. I TRY to pay attention so much more than I ever have - mostly because due to HIS coercion, my short term memory has suffered. This is a new revelation that really irritates me.
6. I don't show my love for him as often as I should and, being typically female, rely on daily "I love you's".
7. If he really was unhappy with me, I'd let him go in the interests of his happiness. Even though it would likely send me into a pit of despair the likes of which would be unknown to my soul.

I really feel like I should go give him a hug right about now.

I had a dream last night we were characters in the show "Rome". He was Pullo, a legion man who killed for cash, had a love of the ladies and drink, but in the end saved a woman from slavery and married her. I was Vorena the Elder... which makes NO sense since she's only 17 or so on the show. She was bitter, been treated brutally by slave owners and wants her own father dead for his part in her entering into slavery.

...You know, writing it out it starts to makes some sense. I'm with someone who I adore, someone strong, sometimes scary, but on the whole, I recognize him as a good man. I'm feeling, however, as if I can't be close to him because of how hurt he can make me feel. For all his righteousness, strength, protection and love, he can still cause pain - and never even realize it.

Man, now my head REALLY hurts!

45 minutes later...

We're talking again. Since he said I "had no fucking intention of resolving the conflict" (and who would with that entry to resolution), we seem to be back on an even keel. I waited it out and everything seems fine.

Though perhaps this is me just shutting down again.

Frankly, I wasn't upset before he pissed me off. And I'm not incinuating I don't piss him off from time to time, this just happened to be his day. He asked me, "what's eating at you?" as if he was trying to give me some excuse for "not being myself". Honestly, I had a lovely day cleaning and a nice evening with dinner at his parent's place ...and he was the one, who in my eyes, escalated a stupid argument.

Seriously, I'm just TIRED. I don't have the stamina for this crap anymore. That's why I don't date!

Read Away...

So another spat this evening. Am I surprised? Not really. That's part of life with one person... but it does keep things interesting.

This space is mine. It is the ONE place I can honestly say anything... to what I thought were the anonymous masses. And yet, this is what makes me the bad guy. God forbid I be unhappy, if even for a moment. To express how I feel to... let's see... my Mom, Jesse Steinman and my in-laws (and perhaps some from my family whom I'm not aware of)... no, that's just too much.

NO ONE will take this from me.

Do people really think we're all perfect? I hope not. Every long term relationship I know has dips and doodles. It never changes. That's just part of the sacrifice. It's the stress you accept for having something that wonderful in your life.

What's eating me tonight is, when we fight, if I don't react to provocation, I'm being pretentious; if I do react, I'm making the argument about me, my stress, and not considering his own.

I'm done getting angry. I'm tired of yelling and being defensive. My heart is pounding and I'm upset. I'm hurt and I'm a little... pained in the chest. It doesn't change the fact I love him to death. Doesn't change the fact that I'll be here tomorrow, and the day after. Doesn't change anything about what makes us, "us".

It just hurts.

He loves me, but he also has a god complex. From what I've said before, some of the things I assumed he thought, were in fact, true. Even though I re-wrote history against myself. Based on the fight tonight, I am always wrong. I don't pay attention. I'm a "fucking pretentious bitch". Hey, I called him "an assumptive arse" so we may as well call that one even.

I swore on my life in certainty and he told me to "stick a gun in my mouth". My retort of, "and make life that easy on you, I don't think so" was not taken as lightly as intended.

All I know is the openly broken girl is feeling mighty broken right now. And while I know it won't be for long, it doesn't make this ridiculous argument (over an Indiana Jones movie trailor) go away. I don't know what it'll take this time.

What I do know is my prodding with his parents didn't go over as I thought it might. Poking him while saying things like "yes, my lovely mother", to a request to help with dishes was taken as me "ganging up" on him with his family.

I think he forgets I'm in a new place. Meeting these family members for the first few times. Trying to impress everyone I meet because I can't seem to get the right job and netwokring is everything. Trying to feel confident when I'm anything but. I feel like I'm a million miles away from the person I feel closest to. Once again I'm left at the end of a journal entry asking myself, "what do I do?"

a little home movie...

When it rains...

Well, we made it back to Kincardine just in time for another bout of rainy weather. I thought APRIL showers bring May flowers... alas, they just brought more rain. :-) No matter, we have some shopping to do so it won't really alter our plans for the day.

Upon our return I had two interviews to set up. Canadian Tire and Books and Beans wanted to meet me. I had to make two phone calls but was up at 6:30 so I spent a couple of hours this morning having coffee and enjoying the birds in the backyard - when the phone rang.

Kincardine hospital is looking for administrative assistants! I had submitted my resume through both the Kincardine physician recruiter and the Walkterton HR department for South Bruce Grey Health Centre. Finally it looks like I have a decent chance at staying within my field! This couldn't be more perfect!

So in the next week I have 3 interviews. At least I can feel like we have a shot now. Craig's jobs at the LCBO and Bruce Inn will keept him busy but at least if I can work part time we can be a bit more comfortable. Hooray! Finally we can get our foundations laid.

Also, while in Toronto we had an adjournment of our stupid cases with the Landlord Tenant Board. We'll have to return to Toronto one more time to deal with this garbage. It's so frustrating, it's just not worth the time it takes... I just want them to stop screwing their tenants. We also managed to get in a couple of hours of chill time with Jesse before leaving the city... and I can now comfortably call him an old friend.

It looks like I'll be trying to come back for the family garage sale. It's finally time to hand over "Happy Manor" (my grandparent's home) to the next family. There's still a lot of stuff to go, though and the date is just another headache - my birthday. A day which was never really great for me. Father's Day brings up memories of my father, I rarely even have a birthday party and now the last hurrah for the old homestead. Whoopee, as they say. At least my cousins will be there. Somehow, younger people make things better.

Toronto is an okay place to visit, but I guess it just wasn't meant for me. I'm happy to call this small town home from now on.

Conall was in good spirits when we picked him up from the Rigdens place last night.

Happy days are here again

I won't say too much about the past few days. What I will say is that talking, albeit painful and sometimes difficult, is the best way to air frustrations.

Yes, I knew this before we fought. Yes, I've always been told this by self-help books and psychologists alike. Yes, even my fiance tried to get me to open up before the explosion... but I was fighting back with silence. I often trip up my words when engaged in a quarrel... with family, friends, peers or Craig. I suppose this is one of the reasons writing has always come so easily.

We sat and 'talked', occasionally yelling. And by the end, he understood me a little more, and I understood him. He doesn't hate me. Quite the opposite. He wants to make sure we're taken care of and secure.

How can a girl argue with that?

To be or not to be... what, exactly?

I can stand up for myself, and be seen as a pushy, controlling ... you know, or say nothing and be accused of silent treatment and rudeness. Even excusing myself to have a cigarette after an argument (while he's trying to eat no less) is unacceptable somehow.

And so it begins. Feeling dead inside again. Pen up those emotions so they don't make him mad. Say just enough that he knows I'm listening. Pray that the cats behave - because I'll be blamed. Even though he's lived with them for over a year and a half. It's my fault. They're MINE, after all.

What did I do? Where did I go wrong? Why does he act like he hates me?

How do I fix this?! *smacks head*

I told myself cooler heads may prevail... that the tension was temporary... but it turns out he's the same as I was with my mother... he spends time with his folks and comes home angry at me... I'm not driven enough, I'm not trying hard enough, I'm not meeting people, I'm not doing enough...

God knows this move can't have been a mistake. I love the atmosphere here, the space, the wildlife, the sunscapes, the opportunity. Dear Abby... please help. I'm happier here on the whole... now if I could just be happy at home.

I feel like he's given up on me... and I don't know if there's ANYTHING I can do to change that.

Life Happens

Have you ever tried to apologize for something and it all comes out so screwed people think you're worse than when you started? Welcome to my day.

I couldn't fix the couch the way he liked. That's how this all started. Right now I'm ready to run my fist through a wall... had I not tried that only 2 months ago. Hurts a lot more than the emotional pain.

Then he said something and while I heard him, I didn't respond. I was edgy from the way he'd reacted over the couch, and the comment was about a show I was watching on TV... a statement I agreed with. I didn't realize that this silent treatment was the same as the ones he has already complained about.

I hate conflict; I'd do anything to avoid it. Instead I ended up accidentally instigating myself into a black hole.

I wrote an apology for my part and went for a walk.

"I am tired.
I am sorry that I'm so inconsiderate.
I am sick of feeling like my brain is defective. (add-in: does God take returns?)
I am irritated that you're always right.
I hate that my feeling inadequate makes you get down on yourself.
I don't hate you, just your attitude sometimes.
I don't look down on you or ride a high horse,
those times you've said I have, have been times I felt the lowest.

"I love you.
You're everything to me.
You hold me when I cry, give direction when I have none.
You love me when it seems like no one else will.
You make me want to be better than I am. (add-in: or hope to be)

"You have all of my apologies and all of my pride.
Neither of us are perfect, but I still think we're perfect for each other.
Even now."

I came back afterwards to more of the same BS. We yelled. I excused myself from a trip to help his parents. We yelled more. I sat. I cried more.

Some of the things I had blurted out may have been more than just angry ranting. I am a depressed person. Not all the time, not to the point of instability anymore, but I do feel like garbage compared to my excelling fiance. Some of my ramblings included quips like:

"You're always right... You can find hard evidence for any argument we get into... I can't remember anything... We fight over the same things because of my inability to rationally deal with conflict... When we fight your always think I'm trying to make you the bad guy... Do you think I like it that I ignore you without realizing it? That I make the man I love feel like crap? It kills me..."

Perhaps I'm no better than the school-yard bully. Maybe I'm so mired down with my own feelings of stupidity, worthlessness and self-loathing that I transfer those feelings onto Craig. I assume he feels all those things for me, and when he gets angry, it validates those feelings.

He thinks I'm stupid, unattractive, unworthy of him. Who could blame him.

Oh... okay, none of that's TRUE... but it all seems to add up. And throw on to that the mean things that get said during any lover's quarrel and it's a recipe for emotional turmoil. And then his yet un-apologized quote from last weeks tiff rings through my ears:

"You're just like your mother. The sad part is, you don't see it."

And then I get angry again. More crying.

The tears dry.

I catch my breath.

I realize he may be right, although that doesn't excuse the way or intent that came with the way he said it. Hurting the one you love is NEVER okay. But if the hurt wasn't intentional, if it can be worked through and made right, then it can make you stronger.

I just hate the waiting in between. I guess it's a down day, today. But that's a-okay. Life happens.

Things are coming along!

Well, more resumes made their way into employers hands and the house has been cleaned. With the major chores out of the way (and a local interview under my belt), we took Conall to Station Beach to learn how to have fun in the water. Set to Pete Townsend's, "Let My Love Open The Door" it was an adorable kodak moment!

home sweet, sweet home.

If you can reach Nirvana...

I am in heaven here.

Granted, I'm not working yet so life is pretty stress free, but am I ever at home in this small town.

I don't have tones of time to write as we are getting the 'net next week, but in the meantime, know I made it here, I'm happier than ever and the pets are thrilled to have so much room to run around.

This is where I'm meant to be. I think it may be genetic.

Life here is honest. I love it.

We're packing up and moving on!

Well we're getting ready to pack up the Uhaul and load our things for the big journey. No more being crushed on the TTC, no more being hit by said Transit vehicles, no more stress from our slum lords or stepping in dog crap in our hallway. No more. We're cashing in and getting out.

I can't wait to see how the next few days will go. I'm sure they'll be stress, maybe even name calling. But 3 bedrooms and a yard is a wonderful bonus. Get me outta here! Let's blow this popcicle stand!

It's all so bizarre!

Most of my worldly possessions are in boxes. Craig and I are preparing for Tuesday's move ahead of schedule, since we'll be picking up the moving truck a day ahead of time.

For the past few days we've split our time between hanging out watching documentaries, arguing over the state of Tibet on Facebook and rooting through our things, sorting the movable from the trash.

I gave my old, "fat" clothes to the Value Village and gave my fish to a 10 year old girl. I've thrown out 4 garbage bags of things from my past that aren't necessary for me to have anymore. The things I've kept have been sorted and packed into labelled boxes - just so they'll be easier to relocate.

Our poor pets think the world is coming to an end. Little do they know they're making the long journey with us!

Our friends are throwing a BBQ to say goodbye. Proof that while I may be over this city, it's home to people I'll miss dearly.

I love all the opportunity that the next few days hold. The excitement of a new chapter begining. The start of something big. It's daunting and even little frightening, but it'll be worth it in the end.

ArrivaderLa!

Things are coming along... :-) FINALLY!

Welcome to my house... Okay, it's Max Rybinski's house... but we rent it! :-)

Oh, happy day! Kincardine, here I come!!!

Okay it's been a while... again...

See, here's the thing, moving last minute is hard.

Not to mention I've been approached to model for a friend's clothing line, our dog is getting neutered in two days, I just gave away two gold fish I had for 4 years, we're trying to close a deal on a three-bedroom townhome and of course there's the normal headaches that come with packing all of your belongings and throwing others out (or in my case giving them to charity).

We've bought a bike, I'm days away from going to get my G1 and the house has turned into a pig sty.

I can't wait to blow this popcicle stand. I'm so over this city.

...nor can I wait to know what my new address is going to be... this is killing me!

All I can say...

Out with a whimper.

So today mom came by with a cheque for us. Things from my grandmother's house were there and she had the cheque in hand. Everything seemed like it might be okay. Like we could meet quickly, in passing, like fish in a pond.

But the second the money went into my hand, she started in on the same old song. I said it wasn't the time for talking about that, I was just trying to be in her presence and get through it. But we kept talking, and she kept pressing, and she left with the last word like everytime before, "Tell Craig, 'I'm being a parent'". It's these quips that say otherwise.

The need to constantly defend.

That's why I can only write angry letters and beg only when I'm at my most desperate and vulnerable... because any attempt to 'just talk' gets spun around. I can't come to her in confidence, I can't be open about anything in my life.

Everything she knows of me is a lie I kept on to keep her happy. And she only today realized how hard I worked to keep it on for so long.

I REALLY don't know what's going to happen now. I don't hate her anymore. I pity her.

Swallowing Pride...

Dear Mom,

I won’t touch our old issues now, they’re not as important as you knowing how I’m doing.

If you want a chance to help me better my life for the positive, here it is:

Attached are the letters of complaint we have filed over and over with our building (just so you know it’s not all “Megan being overly dramatic”). We have been treated so badly, I’ve come to see the only way you can be treated well in this city is if you’re rich. ...And I don’t want to be rich, nor wealthy. But I’m trying desperately to be happy. And how close we are...

Aside from the threats on our personal safety, having to call the cops on other tenants and having no proper fire protection or functioning heater all winter, Craig and I are wonderfully happy together. I don’t know how I would have survived the past few months without him. We have wonderful friends in the area, too.

I now have a job that pays the bills, Craig is on E.I. with a broken hand and we’re making it day by day. Conall is healthy and well. The cats are still enjoying the space here. Life and my heart are in good stead, but my soul is being crushed in this city. I’ve been saying I wanted out for a long time, before I even met Craig if you’ll recall – and I know you remember the family laughed at me for it... so I’m really hoping you won’t do that now.

We are now nearing desperate to leave this city for Kincardine. Craig’s parents don’t seem to like the idea too much, but Craig is looking to work at the Power Plant and I have been submitting resumes with their doctors (they’ve been recruiting to the area), dentists and vets.

The obvious issue is we can’t do it on our budget and with the building’s holding company treating us like we’re the problem, my home has become a place that makes me feel worse, rather than better. It’s not a safe haven, it’s a lobster trap. It’s undoing all the good I’ve done with Dr. Madigan so far.

I’ve been taking more sedatives than I should, practically dependant on them just to be able to be calm enough to focus on watching TV (mostly due to the tenant who threatened us). I’m learning how to use the Bokken (think: big long stick) in self defence. It’s been great for my confidence, but I would’ve rather learned under less stressful circumstances.

I’m sure you can imagine how degraded I feel begging you for help when I’ve been so cold for so long. But I also can’t condone Craig taking money from his parents off their line of credit when they’re still paying off their 2nd mortgage and putting Paul through University... all of this off their pensions.

Since the “formal” wedding has been indefinitely scrapped, I’m asking you for a portion of the money you offered to us to help us start a real home life together in a place where we can be safe and start our family together - NO I’M NOT PREGNANT, SO DON’T PANIC!

It kills me that this is my first non-angry letter to you, but I guess I’m holding up faith that the Mom instinct in you is still there. I couldn’t blame you if you say no or ignore me entirely, but after our lives together, I’m hoping you can accept that I have to cut my own path in life, and right now, I need your help to clear some of the clutter away.

If you choose to write or call me back, I’m not the same person I was when we last spoke. I won’t lie to you about things you don’t want to hear and I won’t hide who I am anymore for the sake of appearances. Ignorance isn’t bliss when it comes to the people we love.

I love the woman I am now; I just hope you can love her, too.

Although it’s against my better judgement to say anything, while I’ve made lots of positive progress without you in my life these past few months, it’s also been some of the most painful times of my life. To turn my back on someone who I couldn’t breathe a bad word about a year ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. ...Perhaps with the exception of having to write this.

I’ll be waiting for word from you, whatever it is. Just like it’s my life, it’s also your money to do with as you will. All I can do is ask.

Now with a heavy heart,
Megs.

Just when you think you're out...

Canadian Tire sends you a $100 gift certificate for trying to use their gift registry. What a happy little surprise!

It all went to Conall's belated birthday gifts (see my you tube account, bottom right), but at a year old and over 100lbs, our big boy deserved some spoiling.

The new food he's on has worked wonders for his tummy, too. Let's just say cleaning up is a lot easier than it once was.

Our baby is growing up!

Life goes on.

Well, I'm back at work, or at least I have a job. I've been off for two days with a fever and ear ache... I thought only kids got ear infections!!! Being at a place in the private sector is so nice. Less red tape, better functionality, better quality of care... I actually feel like I can make a difference... what a concept.

On the pet front, we're looking at getting another dog to play with Conall. Ideally, we're trying to get one out of the Humane Society who need the help emptying their cages. We're not flush with cash, but Conall will need a friend once Craig is back at work and our hearts still have a little more love to give.

The meds are keeping me in check for now and I'm happy to be living again. Making friends again. Feeling alive again. It was a hard road and caused me to estrange myself from my family, but I'm doing so much better.... I feel like a different, better person, now.

On the "home" front, we're likely looking for a new one as our building has degenerated to a typical Dupont Lansdowne slum. People are letting their dogs defecate in the hallways and despite trying to have this resolved since last December, it keeps happening and with greater frequency. It's beyond nasty. To make things worse our landlord is incompetent and the building management won't reprimand her, even though they've expressed similar feelings about her. Bizarre.

And Craig's hand is so badly deformed it's likely he'll need surgery. We found out the doctors at TWH set it at a 35 degree angle. The tech's at St. Joe's, with a little help from anaesthetic managed to re-break and set it at 25 degrees. Still, the orthopaedist says surgery is now likely. This has made my case against UHN all the stronger.

Still, in all of this, life goes on. And I think I'm all the stronger for it.

Is Toronto Western Hospital Functionally Retarded???

After writing University Health Network's CEO, Dr. Robert 'Bob' Bell for help in dealing with their patient relations department, I received this black-berried response:

"thank you for your note. I will refer your concerns to our Patient RelationsDepartment.
Yours truly,
Bob Bell"

The gods must be crazy for letting these doctors work together. The right hand doesn't know what the left ass-cheek is doing!

I mean, you forward the letter to the people who made me write you directly in the first place! In the words of Peter Griffin, "COME AWWWWWWWWN !!!!"

I am some kind of serious pissed. Especially considering I just came back from ANOTHER E.R. visit, this time to St. Joseph's Health Centre (which is wonderful, by the way). There they acted like we weren't the first to go there for a second opinion from UHN. I wish I could say that surprised me. But it did make sense. And now, Craig may very well need surgery... and if that happened to Craig because of the way it was set or casted, I feel badly for the people I'll be hunting down like dogs.

My response to Dr. Bell's letter:

Dear Dr. Bell,

I received your response this morning, thank you for taking the time over the weekend to update us.

However, had you read my entire email you would see I have TRIED to deal with your patient relations department and received nothing but hassle and accusations. This despite the fact that I worked at TWH and had sent things through Ms. Rogers before, it now seems most people at UHN pre-judge their contacts by their job or injury or both. I am a Medical Secretary and was treated as if I should know better than to complain. That is a serious issue. There needs to be some accountabiility, just as in the UHN mission statement; but it seems no one wants to take it.

I'm getting to the end of my patience (forgive the pun) and no matter what happens I will never recommend TWH or UHN to anyone in my life. I will not give my OHIP/insurance dollars to a hospital that has so little regard for people, yet professes to strive for the very best in P.C.C.

It's a blatant contradiction that I have now personally experienced and witnessed on both sides of the table. As an employee, and as a patient.

We have received a new referral to a different fx clinic who seemed to act like we were not the first to leave UHN upset. I will contact you tomorrow afternoon to update you on what our second-opinion finds. Whatever those findings may be.

Should they find the fx is healing properly and was treated properly, I will contact you back to discuss the matter of Dr. Freidman's offering and denial of offering of Oxycontin and Percocet. His denial that he offered these narcotics is very troubling and curious to me.

Furthermore, Dr. Bell, please ask yourself, what does this man and his fiance have to gain by complaining?

I was merely trying to alert your patient relations department to some unsavoury and unsatisfactory treatment (medical and personal). It's not like I'm suing you or even threatened to sue. I just believe that the standards in medicine need to be upheld and that doctors need to take responsibility for the way in which they deal with their patients. I'm sure being in the position you are, you agree with me there.

Sincerely,

Megan Ball

Letter from Craig to Toronto Western Hospital

Dear Sharon,

It is now 6:41am and I have just arrived home from Toronto Western Hospital's emergency department, yet again. I've had no sleep, so please bear with me.

The reason I went (against my better judgement, might I add) was because after my appointment at the Hand Clinic, my cast was so tight that it caused a severe welt (upon removing the cast, even Dr. Lee/Li said, "wow that's bad"). This despite my going to the Hand Clinic this afternoon where I was once again told everything was okay and the numbness would go away when the cast comes off 3 weeks from now. I was told to keep the cast - even though they didn't even bother to remove the tensor bandage to check on the broken plaster or my numb finger underneath.

On a slow, late night, we waited 4 hours to see a resident, 4.5 to see a doctor.

If need be, please see my ER records for verification of the times and condition of the skin and original cast. (for original letter see: March 3, 2008)

While I appreciated Dr. Lee's attempt to fix the cast and my discomfort (finally a doctor who tried to make me feel comfortable), I no longer feel comfortable seeking any further treatment from UHN. I will be seeking care at an alternate hospital where I will ask for a second opinion on the numbness in my finger. I hope with this new finding of ineffective and painful casting you can appreciate my concerns.

Please be advised I will be following up with the appropriate agencies as is needed.

Most Sincerely,

Craig Rigden
--- Lansdowne Ave
Toronto, ON M6H4K3
---.---.----

CC: Dr. Robert Bell

When you hit rock bottom...

My inlaws are loaning us money. People who hang shelves of a daughter who lives in Toronto, pay for a son to go to University, help out their son in a wheelchair and now, their son with a broken hand.

It makes me crazy when they're doing everything they can to help us out when they give so much of what they have as it is. They would break themselves to help their family.

Maybe my mother spent too much time helping out my cousins MaryLou, Charlie, Joanne and Matthew to realize I needed help. Who knows, speculation is not in my therapy plans.

As the old addage goes, "when you hit rock bottom you've got nothing to lose."

Hello, rock bottom! Table for two?

Woe Is Me

Well, another well spent day. Craig and I arguing over whether dogs have rational thought similar to that of someone with a mental disability. I said no. He said yes. He lashed out at me trying to leave it that we agree to disagree. Then got frustrated when I tried to go upstairs to get away from him while he refitted the sheets on the couch. How was I to know he even wanted my help?!

Of course this likely stems from the fact we can barely keep food on the table and haven't paid the rent. This is probably my fault, too.

I don't know what to do when we fight like this. I don't want to leave him, but the more I stand up for myself and my own opinions, the more we get into it. And the more we get into it, the further away from him I feel. Which leads to a lack of intimacy which hurts us both and leaves me feeling like leaving may be my only choice.

Then again, he's out of work, we're broke, he's got an imobolized hand and I'm sure not hearing from Manulife has been driving him mental. I just wish I knew how to handle this. Conflict is not something I've ever really had to deal with. I avoided it with my parents, I shy away from it with friends, I didn't even defend myself in situations where I should have because I just wanted it all to go away.

And perhaps that's why leaving doesn't feel like an option. I mean, beyond the finances. I feel like if I were to give up, I'm only giving up on what I'm working so hard to acheive. A normal life.

God, what I'd give for a normal life.

As for today, I think I'll be trying to sleep away the knots in my stomach.

Keep on truckin'

More therapy, more interviews; one with a dream company. I have a working interview with them next week. This is mine to lose now. I NEED this. My brain needs it, my body needs it, my heart needs it, my mother needs to hear second-hand about it...

Then kick herself for giving me up... Something this world seems to like to do to me. Very frustrating and disheartening.

Craig's hand was most definitely broken and will be in a cast for the next 3 weeks. Not that it mattered, since he lost his job on the same day. ...Perhaps, part of hitting the wall in the first place? Anyway, his E.I. claim was processed and accepted right away, now it's just up to me to get myself up and moving again.

In the interim, we're also dealing with accusations from the University Health Network that Craig's complaint about being offered percocet and oxycontin in the E.R. by Dr. Friedman was a lie. We issued the complaint to the hospital as Craig had a verbal altercation with said doctor, before he offered Craig narcotics in what seemed as a bribe. The hospital has told us Dr. Friedman says this never happened and he never made such an offer. Too bad there was a med student there, too. And a camera.

I've written the CEO of the hospital since Patient Relations only seems to be able to stone wall our questions. Where is the med student? Where is the tape from the cameras? Why would ANY doctor prescribe narcotics from the E.R. to a patient they'll never see again? Why can't you answer these questions?

Day-to-day I deal with the guilt I feel, because of the feelings I have towards my mother. It was so ingrained in me that you stick by family. I can't help but feel like one of those people who turned against their family because of things they uncovered in therapy.

My mother walked over me for the last time. I wish it didn't happen the way it did, but I can't change the past. She chose the actions she did. Now she'll have to deal with the consequences. It sucks. But maybe she'll learn something about real loyalty and love.

Letter from Craig BACK to Sharon.

Dear Sharon

I have cut and pasted the following example from your email. Please explain to me how this is, and I quote you, "You seem to be jumping to conclusions. I did not , in any way call him a liar. I am not sure how you came to this conclusion, or he for that matter".

You stated in your findings email to me that, "There is agreement and acknowledgement that oxycontin was not offered"

Now, I was in the room when the offer was made. So was the fourth year med student (I believe his first name was Lance, he has dark hair, glasses, a five o'clock shadow, and wore cowboy boots), and the doctor in question. Someone is lying, and seeing as how you have made no reference to verifying my story with this med student, I can only assume that this student was never questioned.

Megan will not be calling you concerning this matter. She asked me to inform you that she thinks someone named Bob Bell will be more interested in our concerns, and more receptive to our queries.

I'm sorry this matter seems it will need to go beyond patient relations. I truly hoped for a more efficient and caring response to my concerns. I contacted you, out of concern for the care of all patients going to that ER, but instead was told that my version of events and recollections never occurred. That is why I feel I was called a liar. That is why we will be dealing with this through other channels.

Most sincerely,
Craig Rigden

...TWENTY MINUTES LATER

-----Original Message-----
From: Rogers, Sharon
To: 'Megan Ball'
Subject: RE: FW: Care Received on February 28, 2008, E.R., 10pm

Megan.
You seem to be jumping to conclusions. I did not , in any way call him a liar. I am not sure how you came to this conclusion, or he for that matter. I acknowledged the complaint; everyone else acknowledged the complaint. There was an attempt at apology at the time (which didn't have the impact expected); there was further apology today (several times). There was no lying.
I just re read my email; it was extremely clear and NOT the way that you describe below. Perhaps this is another example of your and Craig's misinterpretation of things; please read again and call me .
Sharon Rogers

...and to Craig at 1:43PM...

Craig
your concerns were not dismissed; they were acknowledged.
There was no lying; there was apology.
the care was reviewed; nothing was taken at face value.
I am surprised by the complete 180 degree misinterpretation of this note by you and Megan.
see below.
Sharon

-----Original Message-----
From: Rogers, Sharon
Sent: Thursday, March 06, 2008 9:57 AM
To: 'Craig Rigden'
Subject: FW: Care Received on February 28, 2008, E.R., 10pm

Dear Craig,

As i indicated the other day, i asked for a review of your ER experience. During this review your ER chart was reviewed by chief of Emergency Medicine Dr. A. Chopra and Dr. Friedman was interviewed.

At the outset , I should say that i was immediately asked by Dr. Friedman to share with you his apologies for the distress that you encountered in your interaction with him. As you indicated he tried to have further discussion with you when he realized how upset you were about his comment that this injuring was likely related to a wall being punched. It is standard procedure to try to associate the context in which the injury occurred, the results on the x-ray and the diagnostic name of the injury i.e. a boxer's fracture. Indeed Dr. Friedman was correct in all of these associations but clearly you perceived his comments to be belittling of you and i do apologize for that.

With respect to your fracture management, i am advised that the management was an appropriate conservation approach and all elements of that have been reviewed. It is the general opinion of the reviewers that any delay that was encountered will not lead to the kind of concerns that you raised in your note.

With respect to the pain control offered, i am advised that you were offered the appropriate pain control in this situation. There is agreement and acknowledgement that oxycontin was not offered and in the end ibuprofen was offered.

Again on behalf of all involved, please accept our sincere apologies for the upset that you encountered. sincerely yours,

Sharon Rogers

Megan's Letter to Dr. Bob Bell, CEO of the University Health Network

Dear Dr. Bell,

My name is Megan Ball and I used to work at the Family Health Centre at Toronto Western Hospital. My fiance, Craig Rigden recently sustained a self-inflicted boxer's fracture in a typical hand vs. wall incident. I am writing to ask you for your help in dealing with a situation of questionable care at Toronto Western Hospital.

After hearing of his time in the ER and how upset he was upon arriving home, I urged him to write a letter to Patient Relations (I had previous contact with Sharon Rogers from my time at TWH - I assumed this would go smoothly) describing the events so they could be made aware of the problem. However, we have both become very upset after a series of emails with Ms. Rogers which have only escalated my fiance's upset.

To describe the sequence of events in short, during his stint in the ER, he received no first aid (ice pack) for the obvious fracture, and while he had what I consider to be an acceptable wait time, the doctor's actions upon assessment were questionable. After a verbal altercation with the doctor, he was offered Oxycontin and Percocet. I have attached the original letter we sent to Sharon for your reference.

Patient Relations and Dr. Chopra reviewed the file determining the level of care was acceptable, but informed us that, "There is agreement and acknowledgement that oxycontin was not offered."

To me, this says that what Craig has said has happened, was a falsehood. Someone is lying, and I know it's not my fiance. If the Government of Canada trusted him to guard our borders, I don't see why he would lie about something as trivial as this.

When we wrote back, upset that Ms. Rogers had, in effect called my fiance a liar, we have now been told that , "[she] just re read [her] email; it was extremely clear and NOT the way that [I] describe[d] below. Perhaps this is another example of [my] and Craig's misinterpretation of things; please read again and call [her]." I'm sure you can understand why I have chosen not to call her back when any of our concerns are met with a wall like the one Craig hit on Thursday night.

We have asked for a fourth year medical student named Lance (dark hair, glasses, black cowboy boots) to be interviewed, as he was present when the offer was made. The other option would be checking to see if the student recording cameras were on at the time. Craig has indicated that if these cameras were running they will pick up Dr. Friedman's offer as clear as day.

The bottom line is we were only trying to bring attention to a potential problem in the Hospital and instead have been told we are liars. I'm sure you can understand our upset.

Please note, on a personal level, I really do not want to have to take this complaint any further than you, but as a Medical Secretary who works closely with doctors, I feel a great sense of responsibility to the Health Care System and will not let this fade away.

Please feel free to contact us by email, mail, or phone at your convenience.

Most Sincerely,

Megan Ball

Megan's Letter to Patient Relations

Dear Sharon,

My name is Megan Ball and I used to work as an Administrative Secretary and Undergraduate Education Assistant with the Family Health Team at Toronto Western Hospital. I am also the fiance of Craig Rigden, who with your letter of response, you have deeply upset. He does not take well to being called a liar.

I have become extremely concerned at the way my fiance's care has been handled throughout Toronto Western and I must say I do not remember the hospital being so full of inconsistency and lack of "patient centred care".

In a very embarassing situation, his treatment was given with little regard for "care". No first aid with a clearly broken hand, no pain medication until it was FAR too late, no call for follow-up from the hand clinic (we nearly missed our appointment because no one called to tell us we had one). It seems the hospital is focused more on keeping it's employees happy and socializing rather than focusing on the patients that keep the doors open.

I am deeply offended that this doctor has chosen to lie in front of a review board, and further, that the hospital has chosen to defend this lie. I urge you to dig deeper in this case. A doctor who lies to a review board could be capable of much worse. Please try to track down the fourth year medical student and OPENLY ask them what was offered to Craig.

I am interested to know if the medical student has managed to keep his morals intact.

With great concern,

Megan Ball
---.---.----

Original Letter From Craig to Toronto Western Hospital

The Patient Relations Office
Toronto General Hospital
190 Elizabeth St, RFE IS-401
Toronto, ON M5G 2C4

RE: CARE RECEIVED ON FEBRUARY 28th, 2008 IN THE TWH EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT

Dear Patient Care Coordinator,

On Thursday, February 28th, 2008 during an argument, through no one's fault but my own, I punched a wall which was drywall covered concrete. This resulted in a "fracture" (clearly completely broken on the x-ray) of the 5th metacarpal ("boxer's fracture"). I left immediately for the Emergency Department.

Upon my arrival, my triage nurse assessed my hand and offered pain medication. This triage nurse was VERY helpful and told me that due to the nature of my injury and the fact it was "a slow night" that I would "get to see a doctor right away". At this point the swelling was still low enough to see the bone pushing on the skin. I declined medication on the advice that I was seeing a doctor shortly.

A few minutes later the registration nurse called me in. I was first given a hard time about the condition of my health card and she then started to act like she was looking down on me because of how I obtained my injury. She said, "it was your own fault" and, "that wasn't a good idea, was it?" in a sarcastic tone (after I had recovered from a shooting pain through my arm). After assessing me she sent me to wait in the waiting room.

After at least another hour I went back to the triage nurse because my hand was extremely swollen and I was in a considerable amount of pain. The triage nurse took one look at my hand, again, offered me pain medication (an offer which I accepted), then told me to have a seat so she could see how long it would be. Within two minutes of this happening, I was called for an x-ray. From the x-ray, I was sent to the waiting area again.

During this time, I still had not received any pain medication and I watched as the doctor's time (30 minutes) was taken up with a couple arguing over the walking cast the hospital was offering to them. There was also a gentleman cared for with what he said "MIGHT be a sliver of floor tile" in his foot while I sat waiting with an unset, swelling hand fracture. At no point was I offered an ice pack to combat the swelling nor any advice on elevation or compression.

When I was finally able to see a doctor I was first interviewed by a fourth year medical student who was FANTASTIC. He made the initial assessment and brought me back to the waiting area. Upon his informing Dr. Steven M. Friedman of his diagnosis, (boxer's Fx) the doctor responded in a sarcastic tone, "let me guess, he punched a wall". I, being 5 feet away from this responded with, "Yes, I did. But is the commentary really necessary?" At this point, the doctor tried to defend his comment, words were exchanged and I requested to leave our interaction to him diagnosing and treating me without additional side commentary such as "I see at least one of these a day".

In the examination room, the doctor continued to bring up this exchange insisting that he "had not meant to insult [me] by it". I asked him to "put yourself in my shoes and see how you would feel in this situation." He continued to skirt the answer but insisted he would not be as upset as I was. I again requested for him to diagnose and treat me. At the end of this diagnosis he offered me something for the pain. He at first offered Tylenol 3's, but with my family medical history I explained this was not an option. His alternative was to offer me Percocet or Oxycontin. As I did not feel comfortable taking either of these narcotics I declined his offer. What I could not help but look at as a bribe (from my understanding of emergency room prescribing procedures). Again, the medical student impressed me with his applied knowledge, asking me if I had ever considered that I may have an inability to metabolize codeine - very insightful.

I felt they (specifically the registration nurse and Dr. Friedman) had preconceived notions about the injury and the situation that had surrounded it, so much so that it influenced their level of care.

My half cast had been awkwardly made and poorly wrapped. It barely covered the broken finger and due to the amount of swelling was unable to be set. I wonder had I been seen sooner, if this could have been avoided. My total time with the doctor may have added to 15 minutes, most of which was spent arguing over his bedside manner. Even while I tried to get my documentation to leave, he continued to argue, "there are people much worse off than you, here".

I would like my file to be reviewed should my hand need to be rebroken in order to set it, or should any further surgical intervention be required in the future. I need to know if the delay in treatment led to this situation. I also would like to know if Dr. Friedman's prescribing of narcotics is a normal thing for this type of situation in the emergency department.

Sincerely,

Craig Rigden

Made it to the Pit

Not that I'd do it... I'm too much of a coward... but at this moment, I have nothing, no one and I want to die. Just putting it out there.

EDIT: That was before I made a hole in my bathroom wall roughly the size of my fist and Craig in response TRIED to put his fist through a concrete wall, but that didn't go so well. He's enroute to Toronto Western to be casted. Idiot. Don't get me wrong, both were stupid things to do, but at least I can type with two hands. Now I need to figure out if it was okay that he asked about hitting me before he hit the concrete wall - I invited him to give me a black eye...

...you know what, it was better his knuckle, than my right eye. No one wants a receptionist that looks like she's been 10 rounds with Mohammed Ali.

Post Script

Job interviews are lining up, my confidence is gaining and I'm actually excited about the prospect of work again. With my attitude change, people are taking more notice of me and it seems like something may happen soon! I'll be keeping my fingers crossed.

Positively Positive

Well, therapy does help. I'll never speak out against it.

Everytime I come home recently, I feel like the weight is a little lighter, and the sun's a little brighter... know what I mean? The world is looking up. I'm taking responsibility for what's mine, assigning blame where it's due, and best of all, trusting in ME. No mom to speak her 2 cents on everything I do. Day in, day out I can just be me and appreciate it. I can love who I am.

For a woman who professed that was the one thing she tried to teach me, she had surefire ways for keeping me down. Like choosing my clothes, telling me I was too fat, being condescending rather that uplifting. Focused solely on the harm I've caused in life, rather than the fact I was supposedly what she'd always wanted. A child. Not a friend, or a Barbie Doll to show off.

I love how I'm starting to feel. I hate the fact I may never speak to her again. But it's helping me, and if it helps me for now, then I have to honour that.

I've been looking for work all morning and am about to take a break from the computer. It feels good to really be excited about going out - not scared or anxious.

I'm gonna make it after all. And then everyone can bite me. ;-)

Another Day, Another Session

Well, it's tuesday so that means another therapy session. Craig will be meeting me there again. Then I'll get to come home, and clean, clean, clean. It seems like a never ending circle when you have 3 shedding pets!

I'm tired again today, the effects of the pills seems to be wearing off and sleep is much easier to come by. Other than that, I have few complaints. I'm feeling more social, more feisty, more myself. Maybe I'll wear my One woman army shirt today. :-) We're even having people over and I'm enjoying entertaining again.

The weather in Toronto is so bizarre these days. There's a layer of ice on the ground which has now been covered with thick, fluffy "lake-effect" snow. I must leave some extra time to get to my appointment today, I'm sure the busses will be running at a snails pace, but I'm sure as heck not trying to walk over snow covered ice. Not with two trick knees! That would be asking for trouble. ...and when I ask for trouble I usually get it.

Now I must go and brave the cold. Wish me luck!

Time off...

So I took the weekend off, shoot me. :-P

I spent the whole weekend hanging out with Craig, ran a few errands, groomed all the animals, had a couple friends over, thoroughly cleaned the house and took in some great programming on TVO and the BBC...

I think that's how you really know you're growing up. Suddenly, you'll find public broadcasting entertaining, and it's frightening really. ...Of course, I'm only joking, public broadcasting is both intellectually stimulating and veryenjoyable.

Today, I've already finished filing my tax documents with the CRA, soon I'll be off to do laundry and maybe hit the gym. Unfortunately, I'm totally exhausted right now. Not near enough sleep and the remains of that stomach bug = ew/ick/blech.

...I also should submit a few more job applications. I fear no one wants me! The last resort will be my going in to work for Craig at Veritude/Fidelity. They're good to their people if you're good to them and everyone who works there seems to love it. Hey money is money. Gotta make a buck somehow.

I am WAY too tired for this.

Severe pain shooting down my right side.
Bathroom trip after bathroom trip... you REALLY don't wanna know.
I feel like someone beat me up in my sleep.

And as much as I am DYING to lay down and quietly cry the pain away... it's therapy day. So my body has to take second shift to my head. There's a walk-in nearby her office, I may just stop in on the way home rather than suffer this a few more days.

...that and kidney infections can be fatal and all that. Probably good to be seen by someone.

EDIT: I forgot my therapist used to be a general practitioner so she ended up working me over in the therapy room and gave me advice: stay flat, stay hydrated but go easy on fluids, and if there is any fever or sudden increase in pain, go to an E.R. I swear the woman knows everything! She said it's likely a bug that needs to run it's course (as I was afraid of), but told me the warning signs of an appendix rupture JUST in case. That'll make you sleep easy. ;-)

Thoroughly exhausted

The day started with a BANG. Craig and I fighting over Dina Pugliese (SP?) on Breakfast Television. We both lothe her and yet she STILL manages to start fights between us with her air-headed, unplanned, rambling commentary. Just once I'd like to see Kevin Frankish smack her upside the head... JUST ONCE.

I tried to stop the fight by dropping my argument which Craig immediately picked out as something I did when my mother and I would fight. That sent me into a downward spiral of crying and hopelessness (of course, it was early so my meds weren't in my system, yet). Which went on into a horrid bout right before he had to leave for work. He had offered to stay and apologized for upsetting me (like it was even his fault) but I insisted he get out the door. With the weather as it is, I knew they'd need him.

After he left, I was still crying for a while, realizing my mother has no idea or want to take responsibility for the head games she's played on me over the years. Everything nice she's ever done for ME was to make HER look good. And when I didn't look good, she was not exactly the 'caring' type.

Because of this, I just want to get away. Craig and I are making new friends and making a 3 year plan for our move to Europe. But according to Craig in her last email she did offer me money. Maybe I'll take her up on it. If she doesn't want to see me married and trust in my (and Craig's) adult decisions, then she just doesn't have to see me. Period.

I got my taxes done and thankfully the refund will JUST cover what I owe the government. So it all worked out. Big load of bricks gone there.

Also, at about 3pm my neighbours yapping little dogs started into a cacaphony of barking (I love animals, but these things are out of control). I left a four page letter on their door asking them to read the letter and "consider their options". I also said in no uncertain terms that I do not want to get the rental office or animal control in to investigate... they just need to discipline their dogs and give them boundaries. At the end of a long article on Caesar Millan's techniques I also offered the websites of Caesar's clinic, a canadian trainer, Brad, from "At The End Of My Leash" as well as the last resort shock collar should everything else fail. I hate training methods like that but by looking at the owner I'm guessing she's too lazy to bother working with the poor animals. It's so damn frustrating.

Other than that little note, from 10am until now, I've been hurriedly working on a slew of stuff for the anti-affricentric school rally on March 7th. I likely won't be able to attend, myself, but I am more than happy to help the organizers who seem a little overwhealmed at all this. The thing with protests is no one understands how much work is involved until you screw it up. Did that once and now I have a lot of experience under my belt. Plus, helping on a cause you're passionate about does help the ego.

So far we have: posters, internet banners, a draft schedule, a draft press release and flyers will be made shortly. It's a never ending stream of work. I can see how someone who works and goes to school would find it a little too taxing on their time.

Now of course, I'm exhausted both emotionally and physically and Craig will be home early tonight. Crap. I need to get dinner sorted out. LOL It never ends!!!

Here's hoping the day can slip out with a whimper. *prays* PLEASE!!!

The Taxman Cometh!

Well, it's that wonderful time of year again when people shudder and stack up their prescription receipts and donation records to file their taxes. As I was audited twice in two years (the recent one saying I owe over $700), I'm a little apprehensive about doing it myself. Nonetheless, it's not like I have much of choice. I'll likely use TurboTax as they have an "audit meter" to measure how likely you are to be audited. Any help is good help.

Other than that, I've been "off" most of the day. Although my head is feeling better than ever, my body is having some not-so-fun reactions. However, I also suspect it may be withdrawl from the sedatives I was on. They're described as highly addictive, and according to my nauseated stomach and shakey hands, the pharmacists may be right. Either way, I have to stop taking them, so I have to deal with this on one side or the other. It may as well be now when I'm LOOKING for work, rather than when I'm trying to get the job done.

Craig has spent the last couple of days at home sick, too, so I can't discount we're suffering a weak bug of some sort. He used the time to download and burn a series of "The Football Factory" and "The Real Football Factories". It started as a book about hooliganism in English Football and was turned into a movie. The success of the movie spawned the series aired on Nation Geographic Channel which in the first season covered England and the UK and the second went International.

The bottom line is I'm watching stuff on football and enjoying it. There's one playing in the bedroom right now, so I'm going to go watch...

...what's wrong with me? Enjoying sport?! This is bizarre! LOL

In other news, I've now lost the 50 lbs I wanted and have hit my target weight. The key now will be making sure I don't gain it back or dip too much lower. I don't want to end up anorexic! But do check out the new banner pictures! :-) Woot, woot!

Realization:

I'm angry most of the time. And that's okay. Fierce anger can be harnessed to do many positive things.

I'm starting to feel like a fighter again. Like my one woman army.

Eat it, world. That's all you get today.

1, 2, 3... Sick and tired!!!

Today is a bad day. I can tell. Three indicators of a bad day:
1) you wake up sick after 4 hours of actual sleep
2) you have a filthy home in need of cleaning
3) you're quitting smoking today.

Any one of these things could, in fact, lead to a bad day. And I've got them stacked up like a grocery list.

All I want to do is:
1) lay under about 20 blankets
2) nap and;
3) drink broth.

Instead, I get to:
1) clean
2) run errands
3) take care of the animals (re: walk the dog, clean cat poo, feed them, etc) AND;
4) try to get dinner ready by the time my man gets home.

...And he's not working overtime tonight so the clock is ticking!

GOTTA GO!

Thanks, MeHarmony!

Since they were doing a "review your matches for free" weekend on eHarmony.com, we thought we'd have a laugh and see if we match up, seeing as we'll be spending the rest of our lives together.

The result?

Well, we both found out there are lots of other people who would like to be with us, but apparently, we're just not meant to be. Who knew?!

*laughs hysterically* Way to go Dr. Neil Clark Warren!

I could make any two people compatible if I had a system set up like that too! A bunch of single people looking for "the one" then going through "guided communication" to meet them... being told to "keep an open mind" throughout the site. Yeah, I bet it works out a good deal of the time, cause people are getting to know each other before meeting! What a concept! I thought that died out in the 1950's...

Anyway, it makes me laugh that who I consider to be my soul mate and I aren't compatible. I guess sometimes opposites do attract.

NOW WATCH THIS: http://youtube.com/watch?v=LVk16vf8u44