Saturday, April 24, 2010

Doctor Rant

So I was doing a little eavesdropping when I discovered something about pills. There are some that cause low sex drive. It also made me realize something else. Doctors don't care. They're interested in treating whatever is harming or hurting you, but they never give you the full story. I mean they'll say something like "it has a few side-effects," and you'll see the list of side-effects on that little paper you get from the pharmacy, but they don't stress the side-effects part. It's up to you to stress it.

Pills, pills, pills. Doctors and the pharamaceutical companies are working together. The doctors are helping to sell their products! If you have a cold, let me recommend Bartie's Cold! No, don't take Tylenol because Bartie is an up-and-comer and I want to help him out. You want to know the real treatment? Rest and fluids. Should I blame the doctors? I mean should I really blame them when our society is so damned lazy and looking for a quick fix? A society that is too lazy to cook dinner and just get their dinner from a fast food joint. Get the nice Family Meal from KFC because it's made for families. No cooking involved, no washing dishes because you're not using any. I mean what has our society come to! I mean yes, I eat KFC myself. But everyday? Who has KFC everyday? For lunch and for dinner! They don't serve breakfast, but if they did, you know where you'd be going. You don't take care of your body, so it's no wonder you're getting sick! Meanwhile these loonie doctors are picking up on that and trying to make a fortune out of it! They're selling you want you want. Pills. A quick-fix. Just give me something to get me through this day. What you need is to eat healthy, eat more fruits, shit like that.

The worst is when you see some five year old with a hamburger in one hand, a fry in their mouth, and with their other hand playing with the toy they got from McDonald's! They don't even want the meal. They want the toy and McDonald's knows that! Here, here's a toy made from people in another country who get crappy wages and not-so-good working conditions! Meanwhile, inject your body with grease! Lots of grease, lots of sugar!

I still have my beef with doctors. They don't tell you this stuff. I mean there's the usual exercise and stop smoking and stop drinking, but they don't say "cut down on the fast food and eat a fruit!" They're not interested in lifestyle changes because that would cut down on the kickbacks they get from selling pills! Pills is where the money is at! We want them, and they want to give them to us. Our society has bought into this whole magic pill crap. And Prozac isn't to blame. We are. We wanted it. Prozac is also not a magic pill! But when we get it, we feel better (or think we do) and think that's all we need. Who cares about group therapy or trying to solve problems? I like my Prozac, and I think I'll up the dosage because half a pill just isn't working for me!

I know I'm going to sound like a scientologist, but it's all in the mind! It's a really sad world we live in.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

A Year Later

My dad reminded me around April 1st or so that it was one year since my uncle passed away. And then I remembered I started this blog a year ago. So I thought I need to write an entry since it's a year later, but technically it's not a year later yet for this journal. April 17th will be the anniversary of this blog and I have to say things are fuckin' awesome. It's unbelievable but I made it. I had one hell of a year and I can't say too much specifically what happened, but those who know me personally will know. Like MJ knows. She's been so supportive of my bad year. It's strange. Well, it's not really strange because I know when someone you care about dies, it does affect you. But when it really happens, you don't realize it. The world looks so morbid, and I guess it becomes morbid or sad or listless or mean, and cruel like one of Mr. Burns's hounds from The Simpsons cartoon. Maybe you hear something in my voice now that tells you things are better because I do feel a lot better.

They had a special poetry reading this past Saturday and I went to it, despite my boss being away for vacation. Funny thing is around the same time last year he had a vacation. So I guess we've come full circle. I'm really happy. But it just didn't happen. It was a journey, a hard journey. I could not have done it without my friends though and God of course. I hadn't been to a poetry reading since that one time where I read that one poem and the whole night just didn't feel exciting. Being at that special poetry reading was different. It was a party, a celebration, a re-birth maybe. A lot of my outlook though has been more positive, it was like I knew I had to go in that direction. It made me realize that I had to make the choice to be happy. I mean there are things to feel miserable about, and things to feel happy about. They're both there, you just have to take your pick. Sometimes it's hard to feel happy, it really is, and that's when you write, or you hold on to your friends. And I mean your friends. Not those idiots who don't want to listen to you whine anymore or have better things to do, or wonder why you don't get over your grief already. Who the fuck cares whether it's been one day, one week, or one year? Everyone has their grieving process. I mean, okay if you're stuck in your room, with the walls painted black for a whole year, then yes, something's obviously wrong, but if you're still doing shit but you're still sad then that's alright because you're still trying to get through the world, and some people just don't understand that. It's like they don't want to be reminded that the other person's dead. But sometimes, people need someone to talk to about their grief. They don't want you to fix their grief, just they just want to talk. It's how they express themselves. Sometimes it's hard to write. I have those times that it's hard to write. So I can understand that. Sometimes the griever just wants to talk or have a drink with you. I mean nothing big, just listen or just keep the griever company. Okay too creepy, MJ just showed up. Maybe she needs to talk? Time for me to blow this post and see how she is. Later.