I put in a request for my *entire* medical file. I can’t even count the number of times people have asked me for it over the years, and I’m always like, ‘ya, sure, I’ll get it to you’,
and then I never do…
Because it’s so fucking big.
Of course, I know when I don’t deliver the file, people often assume I must be over exaggerating the extent of my medical problems,
but the truth is the exact *opposite*.
I don’t bring them the file to save them the misery of having to put it somewhere. Or worse, make them feel they should real it.
Now it’s time…I got to do it. I just need to bite the bullet, get my entire file, digitize it, then be able to hand it to interested parties in a little digital CD (or two or three of them).
You really want to read it? You got a spare six months on your hands? Wa-la.
As much as its a pain, I think it’s the sheer volume of paperwork is what I need for some people–the number of pages alone will shut people up.
‘Tara thinks she has problems, but she looks so healthy she must be an actress overly dramatizing her life or worse, she’s a hypochondriac!’
None of the above.
It’s all true my future doctor-to-be.
And here it is, in all of its glory…