Third Time's a Charm

Went in for a Third Opinion about my knee with a Super Doctor (cue the trumpeters).  But, I was not expecting what he said to me.

I should also mention, that my trusty Dr husband also came with for translation issues – from Doctorese to English.  And support.  Support. SU-PPORT.

Wearing the shorts they provided, I lay back on the table while Doctor Extraordinaire takes a good look and does a fair amount of wrenching.  I now know how that patient on "Operation" got the wrenched ankle.

Him:  “Hmmm…. Yes, I don’t think your pain is from the cartilage.  It is from your FAT PAD”.

The clock stops ticking, time stands still.

Me (In my Head and my best southern accent): gasp. My dear sur, I bag your pardon.  Fat pad?  I should think NOT. Oh oh oh.  <fanning self>, I may or may not have gained some “padding” but to put it all out there LIKE THAT for the world to hear... Lawdie Lawdie Lawdie. I think I might punch you in the throat. Just. Got. To. Get. Off. This. Table. And. Past. Those. Damn. Trumpeters.

Him:  “Yes, we can get in there and cut out a portion of that fat pad and you will feel so much better.  Sooo much better.”

Me (in my head and with mean girl attitude): You might, but I won’t. Oh no no NO.  
I snap my head over in the direction of my loving husband.  He is nodding like a child listening to Santa telling him what he's getting for Christmas. 
You, Youuuuu,  might need to be punched in the throat as well. A fat pad. I'm goana git you.

Him:  “People have fat pads.  Even if they are very very slender”.

Me (in my head and plotting my sweet sweet vengeance): Nice save, Doc.  But just a little too late. 

Ummm… yoohoooo  dear dear doktor husband — he just said I have a fat pad and you are continuing to nod, dear husband, in complete agreement.

I muse the 101 ways my husband will pay for his non-allegiance and I contemplate my fat pad.  It seems quite extensive.  Not isolated to my knee, really.  Up and over the knee.  Well, and maybe spread to the left and right as well.  Over and allllll around.  Yeah, there’s my fat pad.  Alllll around.

Me (out loud):  Ahem. So you say you can just “cut that out”? Like that.  Just cut it out. And I won’t miss it.  My fat pad. Right?....”

Hmmm…me thinks we are onto something here…. cue those trumpeters.

Facebook Fury: An epidemic that can be treated

What is it? And how can you avoid it?
Facebook Fury is akin to road rage, only you don't have to leave your home to experience it. It is the visceral response to a dumb post.  One so very dumb you can't help but to reply. You shouldn't, but you do, god damn it.  It is usually one of the "2 P's" — parenting or politics, but it really could be anything.


How to identify Facebook Fury:

1.  After you read said stupidity- your first response, is "bitch please".  A sure sign the fury is on it's way.

2.  No one else has responded to such post.  It is the "I wouldn't touch that with a 10 foot pole" no-response response.
But you want to touch it.  Like a hot plate.  And you will. Oh yes, you will.

3.  You find yourself trying to figure out where to start.  Should you go back to the beginning: "they must have dropped you on your head when you were little".  Or stick to the present, "You really should see a doctor -- your brain has not grown since birth"?

4.  You feel as if you want to help.  This person is so far off, you want to help.  You are a kind, helpful person.  And you want to help. You want to help them catch a f'*** clue.

5.  It stays with you ALLLLL day.  That post is a bad ka-niggle in your brain.  It's like someone is riding up on your bumper and won't let up.  Do you step on the brakes or move out of the way?   In Facebook fury, you want to pump the brakes and let the bird fly.

6.  You feel as if you have entered the twilight zone.
Do not adjust your computer. 
You're traveling to another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound, but also of mind. 
At the sign post up ahead, your next stop, the twilight zone.'
(This may also be due to that you are holding your breath, you are getting anoxic — exhale, friend, exhale.)



How to Treat it:  

1.  DO NOT RESPOND. If 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 OR 6 is present — DO NOT RESPOND.  It will only lead to a writers equivalent of bitch slapping — no one is ever satisfied when it is over and you can never get that one good punch in.

2.  DO NOT RESPOND. Say "Uncle" and DO NOT RESPOND — There is no right answer to a "2 P" problem (or whatever the dumbass has chosen for their platform). Well, that's what you should tell yourself.  Your answer is right, but the person is too stupid to get it, so just give up.  

3.  DO NOT RESPOND.  Hide that post.  You will know it is still out there, rotting out parts of peoples brains, but at least you won't have to look at it.  And don't look at it again. Don't. Do. It.

4.  DO NOT RESPOND. Damnit, you DID RESPOND — you stepped on the brakes and let them come up on you.  Do not try to tell your friends about it.  It does not help to tell others of the written atrocities  — they won't understand your fury.  That's how fury rolls.  It knows no bounds. Your friends heeded #2 of Idenitfying Facebook Fury, they didn't respond, and they will not now.  Not with a 10 foot pole. Facebook Fury is lonely — it is a one man show.

5.  DO NOT RESPOND. And Lastly — if you DID RESPOND — DO NOT RESPOND to their response. It will beget more stupidity.  I saw this once, there were like 52 comments.  I am not lying.  My friend had given in to identifying factor #4 — she thought she could help.  The person was just too stupid.  52 comments later, and they were just as stupid.  I felt sorry for my friend.  It was a sad, futile, bitch slapping fight.


I hope you have found this helpful.

My rule of thumb is this:  If I wouldn't say it in person, I won't say it on Facebook.  I know, I know.  So obvious.  An 8th grader should know this.  But, now I will live it.  And you should too.

It's sort of like going to a party.  Invariably, someone has gas.  Nasty smelly stanky stuff.  Do you "let one" to counteract theirs and stand there smiling inside?  No, you do not.  You move away quickly.  You do  not want a part of that. That is what civilized people do.  Really, it is.  Don't make it a fart-a-thon, it's a party for God's sake.  One fart should not beget another.

Those stupid posts are out there, my friends, do not fall into the trap of Facebook Fury.  Look for videos of puppies and old people — safe zones.

Peace Out.