On the phone with Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh



[LONG STORY] Last May, I faxed a written release for my son’s new doctor, Larry Tyschen in St. Louis. He wanted the MRI reports from when Sean was a little guy. When Sean started seeing an Endocrinologist this summer, that doctor wanted the MRI report. Soooo, i called Dr. Larry and he said, what? we never got that MRI report.

So I called Pittsburgh [8/11]. They said, “Oh. We couldn’t process that because we didn’t get a release form.” *breathe* Anway, so, they faxed me the official HIPAA forms and I filled two of them out and refaxed them back over. [btw, there’s nothing special about the HIPAA forms and my “written release” was just as good. As a matter of fact, it had more information on it and was easier to read] One for Larry, MD and one for Myrto, MD. I called the next day and the nice lady said that the order was being processed. Okay. It’s late, but it’s done. FINE.

I called the endocrinologist this morning to find out what the hold up was. They are supposed to call me to set up an appointment for my cutie-patootie, 20 pound three-year-old.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Strasser, we never got those MRI results.”

What the fucking WHAT???


I’m out of my mind. That’s all there is to it. Well, I called the Children’s Hospital again this morning. They closed the account as job complete. Sent the records to St. Louis Children’s Hospital as requested. I said, “..and St. John’s Mercy, you mean.”

Cuz, dumbass, that’s where his endocrinologist is. Dr. Myrto is at St. John’s[they had the address, phone number AND fax number].

“Oh, we only recieved one request…to Children’s.”


Then, I call St. Louis Children’s Opthamology offices, which, BTW are different from the hospital offices. They have NOT recieved the reports. The nice girl there says that maybe the records went to the hospital records department. Of course they did… but the  hospital records department can’t release the MRI reports to the Ophthamology department because it came from Pittsburgh. ONLY Pittsburgh can release Pittsburgh records.

So…I’m at square Fucking ONE.

I have re-FAXED all the release forms with a LENGTHY note on the cover letter to my Health Information person at Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital. She was very nice. Very helpful. Wanted to make things better. I’m WAY frustrated [but not at her]…just at the stupid incompetence of whoever she works with and who put her in this position to be laiason to the Bitching Betty.

I have to call her…make sure she got my fax. :eyeroll: It’s ten o’clock in the morning. I haven’t gotten a thing written or a critique critiqued. I haven’t had coffee and i’m eating a DingDong.



i ran out of steam…


But you should have seen me this afternoon when I got home and there was a message on my machine from my friend, the neighbor. A really, really nice lady who hosts craft night once a month. Guess what night it is???


Of course, and she wants to meet my mom who’s been visiting for the past few days…so I feel badly not going. Another month and no excuse not to go. I was really irritated at first thought, but I tend to talk my self out of those irritations. Not sure that’s good or bad, just…depressing. I’m such a bitch.

It’s been a long week.

No writing.

No alone time.

No Normality.

That’s hard on my psychological welfare… LMAO.

ALSO…is it really so bad to want a tattoo?? Why, when I say that, do people make disgusted faces and say ew. I see people with them and I like them!!!!! It’s not very nice to be so negative about what other people like…  I mean, I don’t go around saying, “I really hate when People read bible verses out loud at the breakfast table…as if we all want to hear it.”

I’m sorry, but to me…that’s pretty. 

and so is that…



You can’t possibly understand how pissed off I was last night during the Olympic opening ceremonies. I watched all these beautiful people people parade in with their beautiful dresses…their scarves…their hats…pretty shoes. I don’t remember which country wore them, but the women had on these sassy red dresses. Reminded me of Audrey Hepburn…

I remember thinking at that point, Oh, I can’t wait to see what the US is wearing.


First of all, if you saw our team from a distance you wouldn’t be able to distinguish man from woman. It was the most disappointed I’ve ever been!!!! I mean, what stupid Freak women’s Liber decided we had to be Fucking equal to men??? HMMM? There was nothing, absolutely NOTHING pretty about any of the women’s clothing. They looked just like the men. Pansy ass men wearing Polo-ish Caddyshack-reminiscent WHITE pants, blue[yes, Navy] sports jackets, and stupid, freaking, country-club set scarves at their necks.

[My daughter saw this picture when I was complaining about the outfits…she said, “but the dress is pretty.” YES! THANK YOU, smart 9 year old female. I LOVE YOU.]

I’m a republican…but, EW. EW.EW.EW. They looked like cookie cutter conservative, golfing..SEXLESS SHITHEADS.

When is our country going to WAKE UP and realize that woman have more to offer!

Put a dress on, you morons!!!!!!!!!!



There’s something about kids.

They make you want to pull your hair out.

They make you yell when you want to be calm.

They call you stupid… and end up grounded to their rooms.

They wish you were never born.

They have excuses for not doing what you tell them to do.

Then, a minute later they are smiling…and you still want to pull your hair out. You wish you didn’t exist. You yell. But most of all,  you wish you had been too stupid to have sex.



I BLAME HIM! ————->




(heh. i can’t help but laugh. which is how we get ourselves more children in the first place. STOP making me LAUGH!)



that’s what I am now. Seriously, what is it about a bunch of women working in an office together that seems to bring out the worst? It’s like highschool all over again. Only without the pom poms, homecoming, and football games.

Wanna know why my job satisfaction has dropped drastically? Why tension envelopes me when I enter my department? Women who are older than I am, should be adult enough not to nitpick over the simple things. There should be no who said what to who or who did what to who. Or worse… carrot cake. That is what this all started over. Freaking carrot cake…I kid you not.

Most jobs people are lucky to get a Happy Birthday, but not at my job. It is something done to recognize the employees. So why do we argue over cake? Be thankful for what you get. Worse than the carrot cake argument is the fact that people want to draw me into the arguement. Not going to happen. From now on… I will sit my happy ass at my desk, headphones on, iPod turned up, and post my sign.


This cubicle is Switzerland and I am a neutral party.

I think that paired with the following….

Employee at work…. keep walking.

…might actually garner me a little bit of peace or get me named the office bitch. But I think I can live with that. If it doesn’t work, maybe I can go around and do the yearbook poll… who is the most popular, most likely to succeed, etc. etc. etc…..