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It’s Not About the Motherfucking Fax People

I guess I wasn’t clear in my earlier post. You see the fax gave me tsuris but the problem, the real problem is that my son is going to have surgery for the fourth fucking time.

So yeah, HIPPA is a logistical nightmare. The surgeon is a mensch and his office staff is kind but they are in over their heads. That they won’t fax another physicians office (by the way physicians are the only dinosaurs still using those damn machines) is absurd and speaks to the fact that somehow lawyers and MBAs are involved in my son’s surgery.

So I’m pissed and it’s a LOT easier to be pissed about the fax than about the fact that once again my son will be on a gurney, once again my son will cry blood for a few hours and once again I’ll hope against hope that this actually works.

And isn’t particularly reliable. I know you think your 23943287493 emails are problem solving but they just irritate the fuck out of me. It’s entirely possible that I’ll have no friends left at the end of this next chapter and (no offense) today that seems like it would be just fine.