Poked and Prodded

Things at work continue to be as satisfactory as possible. Whereas once my office was the place where files went to die, I am now moving things out and getting them back into the filing cabinets where they belong. In addition, filing for the individual lawyers is finally being addressed so that the files are up to date and properly maintained. I have actually had a couple of lawyers come to me specifically to audit and "fix" a file that had spiraled out of control. I've also been asked to proofread a legal brief, so it isn't all filing.

And I have lost at least six pounds since I started this job.

The only concern I have is the time I am taking off during my probation period for doctor's appointments. I am not a malingerer, but the timing is especially bad because we are changing up some of the medications I am on in order to address some issues around chronic pain. Apparently, I have fibromyalgia, which pisses me off. I mean, what the fuck is up with that? The medication I used to take for it no longer works, not since last September when I fell on the stairs and injured my right knee.

I saw the rheumatologist this morning, who examined the knee and then aspirated some fluid out of it before injecting me with a steroid. Oh, my gentle German Jesus, that was fucking uncomfortable, and now that the local anesthetic is wearing off, I'm even less impressed. He prescribed some naproxen, sent me for x-rays and blood tests and told me he thinks the knee might be mildly arthritic. The rest of my pain, though, that's fibromyalgia.

Piss me off. I haven't been able to fence since Quad War (SCA) last August, either because my knee has plagued me (despite weeks of physiotherapy), or because I can't lift the sword. And I miss fencing so much, I regularly dream about it. For awhile, I was doing archery, but my shoulders and arms couldn't take it. I know I could lose weight if I could only move, but it's all I can do to get through the day at work.

So now we tinker with drugs and other strategies, and I pray that my bosses see that I am invested in doing my job to the very best of my ability and that their faith in me so far has not been misplaced. My probation period ends in June, but it seems so far away.

Also of some interest is the fact that my former employer, a certain Princess Dumptruck, used to work in the same place I am now. I have even seen her name on some of the files. And she is remembered, though not fondly, by some of the staff. The stories they have shared with me about the Dumptruck's behaviour certainly confirm for me that this has been an issue for years, and that she has only gotten worse in private practice. Words used by these staff members to describe the Dumptruck ten or eleven years ago include "vulgar", "gross", "inappropriate" and "mentally ill".

I have been given to understand that when I submitted my resume for this job, my former employer's name caused a stir, as the memory of her presence there (and her subsequent dismissal) lingers like a persistent fart. There was some concern that I, as her assistant, might be equally as damaged, and there was apparently some hesitation about whether or not an interview would be granted to me. Luckily, one of the lawyers (the one who knows Dumptruck) ascertained that I was in need of rescuing, and thank the nine-pound baby Krishna that she did, because I was!

But now you see why I am so anxious that my health issues not get in the way of my fabulous new position, because it was almost a job I didn't get! I know what it's like to work for someone who is an unequivocal train wreck, and am daily mindful of my good fortune to be where I am.

And while this blog hasn't fulminated against anything recently, be patient. It's coming.