Letter of Intent - the Komen Edition

I haven't played with LOI in a while, but I finally have time to type the letters I've been composing in my head.  If you have anyone who deserves a letter, head over to Foursons and link up.

Dear Susan G. Komen Foundation,

I understand that you're saying that you're withdrawing funding from Planned Parenthood because they are under investigation.  I could actually respect that stand, if that was the real reason why you are withdrawing funding. But I'm not an idiot, I know that your new leader is very openly anti-abortion.

So, of course, since your fearless leader is anti-abortion why on earth would you continue to support a program that provides needed health services to underserved women nationwide?  Planned Parenthood is a place where young girls who have no other place to go for information about birth control can go and be treated with respect.  They provide women with cancer screenings, including, until your funding was withdrawn, breast cancer screening.

You have just denied thousands of women the chance to be screened for the very cancer your foundation is searching for a cure for.  All because you focus on one service that some Planned Parenthood locations offer.

I don't have a lot of money to give to charity, but you can be damn sure that you'll never receive a dime from me.  Any money that would have been donated to you will go to another agency, most likely Planned Parenthood.

Signed,
Ashamed I Ever Supported Your Foundation

~~~
Dear Loud Mouth,

Trying to get any work done once you enter the building is impossible.

Why don't you STFU?

Signed,
Not Getting Any Editing Done Thanks To You

Letter of Intent

Time to hook up with Julie at Four Sons to get everything that bugged you this weekend off your chest!

Dear bilateral femoral-tibular articulations knees,

I know I abused you when I was younger.

I know I asked way too much of you from junior high on.  You told me, pretty vehemently to lay off in seventh grade when you both revolted and I ended up with both of you swelling up like water balloons.

I laid off.  I strengthened my quads.  I learned what I could and could not do.  I learned how to avoid the water balloons.

Oh, on occasion, I would forget and do something stupid, but for the most part, I took good care of you as I got older.  Even when I took up soccer at thirty, I tried to look out for you.  You'd give me a reminder once in a while, just to let me know I might be pushing it too hard.

I got it.  I paid attention, I took care of you.

So what's with this?

One little 5K on a dirt road and you laid me up for weeks.  I tried working through it.  I ate handfuls of ibuprofen.  I slept with ice on both of you.  I quit trying to work through it.  I laid off.  I didn't go to the gym; I only wore good shoes.  I behaved.  Even when I didn't want to.

Even El Poquito Diablo got worried.

You relented.  The swelling went away, the pain subsided.  I breathed a sigh of relief and eased back into working out.

And then...you betrayed me today.  I've been so good. I've been taking care of you.

Why?

All I did was step down from the stair master.  That's it.  I was being so very careful not to do anything to aggravate you; I supported my weight with the arms of the stair master and gingerly stepped down, being careful to make sure I stepped squarely.

And you struck with a vengeance, threatening to drop me to the floor.  El Poquito Diablo noticed.  I lied and told him I was okay.  He knew I lied.  He made me go easy on you today during our session.

I took ibuprofen, I iced you twice while at work.  I've got the other ice pack waiting for bedtime.

I'm not happy.

Sincerely,
Thanks for the GI bleed and frostbite

Letters of Intent - Bionic Cowgirl Edition

I'm hooking up with Julie at Foursons today for a little LOI.  I think the nincompoops healthcare professionals at EPMC deserve it.

Dear ER "doctor":

Thank you very much for starting off my mother's stay at EPMC with a bang.  The ER nurses rocked.  You, you whined like a little bitch when Mom bled on your slacks. Caused by doing something you told her to do.  And then you had the nerve to tell her to "stop it!".  Hello?!  She was following your instructions to raise her arm - broken into nine pieces - above her head.  Mom is "dirty tough" (<-- thanks for that Mikey) and assumed you had a reason to ask her to do that, thus proceeded to do as you bid.  Next time, look at the x-rays first, asshole.

Signed,

Be Glad I Wasn't There

`````
Dear I'm too busy to help you Floor Nurse:

Standard operating procedure for patients who are post-op orthopaedic surgery is ice.  Copious amounts of ice.  Reduces swelling; increases healing.  Anyone who has ever sprained their ankle knows that.  So, why did you not at least offer ice?  Why did my mother have to suffer through the night - drugged up on IV meds - and have to ask for it the next morning when the meds no longer touched her pain?  Ice should have been applied liberally throughout the night.  But, hell, what do I know?  I've only got 25 years in medicine; several as an athletic trainer, several as an EMT, even more as an MA, plus throw in a year or two in hyperbaric medicine.  A nurse I am not, but I at least know to apply freakin' ice!

Signed,

Could Have Done A Better Job Drunk Than You Did Sober

````
Dear Orthopod's MA:

When I was told that you would call us when Mom's new prescription was called in, I expected you to, you know, call.  Since you did not, Mom spend her first night at home managing her pain with *ice* and ibuprofen.  24 hours after a horrific horse injury and an elbow reconstruction surgery in which the surgeon could only put seven of the nine bone pieces back in place, my mother had to spend the night with just ibuprofen.  She is dirty tough, but that was expecting a whole lot.

Not only did you not call to let us know her script had been called in that night, Bill had to call the next day to find out if it had been done.  Only then did Mom get her meds.

Signed,
Hope Karma Kicks You In The Ass