I’m at my wit’s end. I am writing this from my phone with my puddy stationed on the toilet from the Dorsey single-stall bathroom. A combination of sweat and tears roll down my face, as I have come to the conclusion that I can never move from this cursed seat. I have been here for at least the past 3 hours. In my immense pain, I have lost track of all sense of time and reality. I don’t even know if it’s steak and salmon night. All of this unbearable anguish is because blood will not stop gushing from my puddy.
And yes, I have called student health services; but, there are no available appointments until next month. When I let them know the urgency of my situation (that blood has been flowing forth from my body through my vaginal canal at an alarming rate) all they told me was “Take a Tylenol and gargle some salt water.”
When I heard that, I had to restrain myself because the rage that filled my body began to propel the blood at an even faster rate. How can you tell someone whose puddy is bleeding out to take a Tylenol and gargle salt water? Don’t they realize that there was no way that I could even reach a sink without leaving a Texas-sized stain on my dorm room carpet? Don’t they realize that any permanent damage left to the room after this year will be charged to my account? But more importantly, I can’t believe they are actively refusing to help me in my time of need. I am dumbfounded by the cruelty shown by Student Health Services on this day.
How about I take my profusely bleeding puddyhole and gush blood all over your carpets? How would you like that, Student Health Services? I wish I could go over there now and protest their clear incompetence by using my puddy to unleash the first plague upon them, but here I am, glued to my throne.
WebMD says that I could have sync with my entire Core 1 lecture or even worse, my fallopian tubes got thrashed at TNC. How do you consciously make the decision to deny services to aid my issue knowing the severity of the situation? The proof is in the puddy.
Just know after some thought, that I will make my way to the emergency room by MYSELF. I will stain my carpet on the way there, and you can definitely expect a letter from my daddy who’s a lawyer demanding that you cover the fines from the housing office. I hope you guys take my bleeding puddy experience as a learning opportunity and change the ways you address student health needs. If I don’t make it back, please tell my mom I love her. And tell Student Health Services that they can kiss my wittle poodywoody.