First and foremost, my ass is healing. The hole used to be the size of an adult thumb, and now I think it’s more child-sized. I have been doing a daily bath with epsom salts, and my body has been doing the rest of the work with the superhealing mechanism that was triggered by the wound. The surgeon does not need to make any more hamburger.
Second, there was a lot of confusion surrounding my bed situation. I saw a doctor at the U of MN on January 4th, during which time I was “prescribed” a hospital-style bed that should also help me avoid further bed sores. I was handed the script and told to do the rest. I pulled a North Carolina and said, “Do what now?” I called my insurance company to find a durable equipment company; the insurance company told me that my doctor needed to call the insurance company first for a pre-authorization. I sent a message to the doctor who prescribed the bed, and got a message back late last Friday; when she called, the insurance company told her that I was supposed to go to the durable equipment company. So it took me a few days, but I finally tracked down a company that was contracted with my insurance company and might have what I need. I called them, the intake person laughed at me and told me that I was doing way more than I should have, and that she would work it out with the doctor and the insurance company.
Nothing is ever easy.
When I developed this issue and got the prescription for the bed, the first thought I had was, “How am I going to explain that to Nashville?” I mean, the surface area is going to be halved, but then again, it’s supposed to be adjustable, so……….
Turns out I worried for nothing. I called him over that first weekend in January and told him that I was due in the surgeon’s office Monday and that there was no way I could make a date happen on that day. We chatted for a while, and he told me about his neighbor attempting to steal his brand new puppy that he paid a breeder $1200 for. We talked about him setting up security cameras. I couldn’t seem to convince him that the neighbor “knowing Nashville was real, real mad” wasn’t enough of a deterrent from the neighbor trying again. Then Nashville made some excuse about it being late (even though he normally works 3rd shift and it was only 10 pm, so he was definitely used to being up then), and we hung up. He texted me the next day to tell me he hoped that I was feeling better, and I told him to give the puppy extra pets from me.
The day after that, I saw the surgeon again, so I had a better idea of the timeline with the healing of the hole in my ass. I called Nashville and left a message.
I waited about five days, and then I signed on to OKCupid to see when he last logged in. I hadn’t been on since Christmas, but the system told me that he was online in the wee hours of the morning on the same evening we traded texts. So in other words, Nashville was still cruising for chicks. He totally ghosted me.
I don’t know why exactly, but I’m not bothered enough to blast him. Instead I blocked him on Facebook and OKCupid, and automatically forwarded his texts to junk as well as marked his calls as automatically going to voice mail. I don’t expect him to call or text again since he cut off all communication, but I just wanted to be sure that he would have to go out of his way to figure out how to contact me.
I still have his Christmas gifts.
I couldn’t have been happier to be able to recycle his god-awful work calendar – which consisted of guys with hunting rifles hauling around the bloody animals they just shot.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to confirm this, but I’m wondering if he got sucked into talking to women in Russia or the Philippines like my former hookup did. He is definitely the kind to give them his last penny because of some sob story.
Nashville used to tell me that he thought I was too “high class” for him, or too smart. He also bemoaned the fact that I can’t drive, but as soon as he said that, he would tell me how much he loved my neighborhood and that he would like to move to this part of Minneapolis/Saint Paul. I told him that he had to make some decisions, that there were certain things I couldn’t change, no matter what.
Rather than speaking to me directly, he chose to ghost me. Nashville always used to say that he never, ever broke up with any women, they always were the ones to break it off.
Well, Nashville, those words better stop coming out of your mouth. By pretending I never existed, you broke off the relationship.
I’m still looking for my unicorn.
P.S. – time to recycle my Star Wars cup – Nashville was using it as his spit cup when he stuffed his face with chewing tobacco