So, I texted Dave last week, that I needed him home by noon on Friday so I could go get my first mammogram and breast ultrasound without child in tow. Then, of course today I find out about the MRI, so I ask him verbally if he’d be able to get off work early next Wednesday to drive me to that. They won’t let me drive myself home afterward because of the xanax I’ll have to take. First he pisses me off by asking why I can’t just be a big girl and sit through it like a normal person. Clearly he doesn’t even know what an MRI is, I won’t be sitting, I’ll be squished into a small space and have to lie still for a LONG time. So he says he’ll find out. Fair enough. I’m starting to walk back to my room, and then stop short and turn around and say, “you never did tell me if you can get home by noon on Friday” or something like that. He’s like, what’s Friday? WHAT?! So I tell him, again, about Friday. He’s like, “Well, I won’t have any free time until AUGUST!” I’m like, I can’t help it that I have all this stuff close together, the mammogram has been scheduled for OVER A MONTH and when I texted him last week it was a REMINDER. The MRI is VERY important because my KNEE FUCKING HURTS. I can drag Casey with me to the Mammo and Ultrasound, I *think,* but not the MRI, I can’t make the poor nurses and staff look after him for that long. And I *have* to have a ride home.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now???
