D-Day (Doctor Day)

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You DO know that saying I'm sorry does not correct the problem I have?

And in case you're wondering...I fished a pair of (hopefully) clean underwear out of the basket...hoping they don't have too many cooties from being close to your dirty socks. And I'm wearing the same pants I wore yesterday. I'm thinking YOU'RE making dinner.
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Good or bad sign?
The nurse called this morning to confirm my appointment. She asked who was referring me for the appointment. I told her that Dr. B, who used to be with U. Hospital, but is now with L. Hospital, suggested I see a specialist and I chose not to return to U. Hospital for my own mental health reasons. She laughed. And not in the you-are-really-funny sort of way...but in the I-so-understand-what-you-are-saying kind of way. I'm not really sure how to feel about that.
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While I truly enjoy the county fair...why do I have to get stuck behind traffic on Senior Citizens Day?!?! And why do Senior Citizens drive the biggest SUVs they can find?!?!
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I opened my file folder this morning so that I can organize my medical records into some semblance of order...and right on top was a pencil drawing from my dear sweet Sam.

Thanks Sam. I love you.
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There are these beautiful roses outside my office building. OK...so I use the term office building loosely. This is the OLD jail and courthouse...the original to the county. It meets no building safety codes. But what it lacks in safety it more than makes up for in charm. I get to walk through the OLD courtroom with it's hardwood floors, high ceilings, and chandeliers on my way to the old iron stairwell that leads upstairs to my office. It's got some of those office partition walls in it now to create a sort of conference area...but you can still see where the old bench used to sit. And there's even a holding cell under the stairs...that we now use to store file boxes.

Anyway...
There are these beautiful roses outside my office building. Ed, the very nice maintenance man, brought cuttings from his home and planted them. Now he takes painstaking care to grow them each summer for everyone to enjoy. They're, quite honestly, beautiful. Red, yellow, salmon, and white. He even lets us cut them and bring some in to the office every year.

I don't know why it bothered me so much, but the roses were battered and beaten last night in our heavy rainstorms. They were so full and bright and beautiful yesterday. Today they are just a mass of wet and mushy petals on the ground.
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