Busted to Hell

The Red Planet’s worker’s compensation office is in Zephyr Hills; they have nice pens there.  Provided for free by some medical supply representative, of course, but the pens are still nice.

Naturally I stole one.

The pens even have a little cushion for your fingers!  The cushion is actually soft on this one!

I’m the only one in this room who wasn’t older than Reagan when he was President.  They might have served with him during World War II!  In the U.S. Air Force’s movie department!  Making films to strike fear into the hearts of the German hordes.

When I was injured at work I spent (at least!) an hour recounting what had happened.  It was typed up and filed away.  They gave me a form (“Don’t lose it!”) to give the work comp. center if I ever sought treatment.  Today I arrive for treatment and find out that the comp. form hasn’t been filled out.
 

It’s blank.

“When was the accident?”

I don’t remember.  A lot has happened since I was injured.  I tell them the 7th when it was actually the 14th.  I’m proud that I remembered it happened on a Friday.  I’m usually unable to tell you the date it is anyway, regardless of whether we’re talking about today or two days ago. 

The best part about this adventure is that it’s (almost) totally pointless.  My toe doesn’t even hurt anymore.  But when my doctor (endocrinologist) looked at it she felt an x-ray should be done.  To see if it had been broken or fractured, what have you.

Do not drop fifty pound boxes on your toes.  Shit hurts, and nothing good will come from it.

(A couple days after getting crushed.)

(Five days after.  It still looks the same way, only the bruising around the nail has calmed down.)

Now rather than just go and pay for the x-ray, I’m instead at the worker’s comp. place.  To see if they’ll deem an x-ray necessary (and thus pay for it).

They (probably) won’t.  I know that already.  They’ll say it’s broke and there’s nothing they can do for it.  And I’ll end up paying for the x-ray myself.  Paying for it with money I earned today sitting in a waiting room waiting for a doctor to examine my foot.

I work for a multinatinal corporation.  My store alone has sales in the millions.  And yet they send me to this butcher shop:

Cracked tile!
 
You exploit the illnesses of others!  Use some of that money to boost your curb appeal!  If this doctor tries to see me from behind a dumpster… well then I’m leaving.  X-ray or no x-ray. 

This dumpster doctor’s staff is very pleasant though.  Very different from the last doctor I was seeing.  Today they changed the “date of incident” on my worker’s comp. form after I initially gave them the wrong date.  It’s not much, their listening in on my phone call to my human resource officer and taking it upon themselves to change it to the correct date.  It’s not much, but to me that small gesture reads as stellar. 

Postscript:  The doctor did actually x-ray my foot.  Right in the office.  Put my foot in what appeared to be a modified microwave and went to it.  It received some popcorn for my patience.  He also yelled at me for bringing my foot to him:

“When did this happen?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, no, it doesn’t.”

“Then why are you here?  You can work right?”

“Yes I can work!  I’m here ’cuz my doctor said I needed an x-ray and I don’t want to pay for it!”

Fucker.  After that exchange we got along better.  We both understood where we were coming from.  He wanted to go to lunch.  I wanted some proof that my toe was either broken or just busted to hell.  Turns out it was just busted to hell.

I’m fit to work though!

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2 Responses to “Busted to Hell”

  1. you have total caveman toes. and from what i recall your feet like popcorn so it’s a win win

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