Yeah, JZ, I believe that there is. About how the war on drugs doesn't work, because the poor people kind of need drugs, cause the jobs have left Baltimore...the Munchkin drinks and gets reflective...I don't remember which one it is, cause it's not fun, like some of those quotable Munchkin moments. Or like "You're the detective that took all those drugs, and messed up his brain."

Can you carry a copy of that file with you to the ER ita !? Is it heavy and good for cluesticking ? Dr. Morocco needs to be reported.

Dr. Morocco denied you meds, then hung up on your specialist, and the specialist is worried you'll get worse treatment because of all this? That is severely fucked up. Jesus. I hope between your actual doctor and the social worker some kind of fix can be found.

My reaction as well. Also, what's the point of having any records at all if the doctor you see today doesn't believe what your specialist has ordered?

In dessert news, last night my mother made ice cream sandwiches with ginger cookies and pumpkin ice cream that she made by mixing pumpkin into vanilla ice cream, and they were FUCKING DELICIOUS.

Oh ita, that's frustrating enough to read about, much less live.

I ate my last Tastykake last night, but I'm scheduled to go back to PA this weekend so I should be able to renew my supply.

For dessert at our fanciest meal in Vegas, Lee and I had something called, um, Gingerbread Something, (I didn't write it down and it's not on the menu I can find online, they did tell us it was new, our waiter hadn't even tried it yet), but it was actually made mostly of pumpkin - as I recall, some kind of pumpkin mousse and creamy sauce and toasted pumpkin seeds (that were FABULOUS) and it all magically came together to give the general impression of gingerbread. So good.

That dog costume thing has me giggling out loud. I'm 12.

Did you at least get some kind of immediate treatment today?

An injection of triptans and a drinkable anti-inflammatory in precisely the flavour of mint that's worst for my migraine. No improvement.

I'm not supposed to go to the ER before he gets back to me, and there's no reason to think they'll treat me, but good god--how can it be possible that none of the people with power to help me have the inclination? If I go to a hospital where my specialists don't have privilege, I clearly won't get my meds. If I go to the other UCLA hospital it's either the same people or it looks like I'm shopping and it might be held against me.

It's all incredibly stupid, and the longer this goes, the less likely Tuesday at work looks.

I've made pumpkin bread pudding, it's great. And yeah, you basically mix the canned pumpkin (and pumpkin-related spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves) into the custard (eggs, milk, sugar), and then pour it over the bread. Let it sit for a while so the bread soaks it all up, and bake. NOM.

Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me is moving their blog to Tumblr. If this is what finally gets me on Tumblr, I think I'm officially an old.

That is hilarious, shrift!