I can't audioblog this one.

Dear family:

Die in a fire. I can't start physical therapy for my tendons OR get the test I need to determine the extent of the damage to my nerves until you send me my fucking insurance cards. This would not be a problem if you had just fucking SENT THEM TO ME IN NOVEMBER LIKE I ASKED YOU, YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS SONS OF BITCHES.

The longer I wait, the worse my hand gets. You are ruining my chances at ever being healthy and normal simply by being lazy.

Also, fuck you for making me get sent to collections over the blood test bill. Another doctor will likely do the same because you can't put two fucking pieces of plastic in an evelople.

Unc: why the fuck do you have a secretary?

Fam: what exactly is it that you DO? Really?

WHY CAN NEITHER OF YOU BOTHER TO CARE?