I am about to attempt to examine your tonsils from Way Down Here.
“Deep breath, now.”
This is really going to hurt.
“Little more pressure…”
…yer tonsils look good but now I need to check the patterns inside yer brain-case…
“Bear with me…”
Dude, I have never seen this many spiderwebs in a brain-case before, I’ve got to get extra pictures of this or they’ll never believe me at the next staff meeting!
“Just a few more minutes and then we’ll be done.”
We have a bet about who can keep a full-bladdered patient on the table longest without having to call Janitorial, and I’m twenty-seven minutes behind the leader.
“OK, we’re all done! Your doctor should have the results for you in a few days! Have a Merry Christmas!”
I know you are about to ask me if I saw “anything” and I am not allowed to answer that because I am not a doctor – if I saw a Jeep Wrangler in there, I’m not going to twitch an eyelash in response, so I am going to use my most cheerful tone of voice, throw a holiday greeting into the mix to mellow you out a bit and then I will run for the door as if a pack of slavering wolves is at my heels, because in spite of the impression I am currently giving that I don’t fear you, you are in fact terrifying the crap out of me right now OK BYE!
In addition to having had a few medical expressions explained, you now know WAY MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW about my day today.
I find it particularly sad that someone like me, who really (and I mean really) loves Goode Foode keeps having digestive-tract issues that force me to be circumspect about how much I eat, of what kinds of foods. Although this newest thing is pure volume – it could be water, if I fill my stomach up?
Stomach Cramps of the Gods +10. It doesn’t last particularly long, about half an hour (which seems like FIVE DAYS AND NIGHTS), and goes away as suddenly as it hits (mid-bite to mid-groan), can mostly but not completely be avoided by not eating too much, and leaves my entire abdomen somewhat sore for roughly twenty-four hours.
We learned last week that if someone (say, a doctor) pushes on my stomach, even when there hasn’t been an “episode” for days and days, it hurts.
It hurts a lot.
The only thing that hurts more is if that someone then lets the pressure off suddenly.
Yeah. That was exciting, that discovery.
It started the day before Thanksgiving (nice timing, body, thanks for that) and gave me just enough time off to start thinking that maybe it was a virus (you know, that famous ‘intense like-labor-only-they-don’t-come-and-go-nor-do-you-get-a-baby-out-of-the-deal stomach cramps but no nausea/vomiting/anything else upon eating that goes away in half an hour and leaves your entire abdomen feeling like someone hit you with the business end of a croquet mallet’ virus), and then gave me a good hard body-slamming right when I had decided that FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I wasn’t in the mood for an ultrasound anyway so let’s call the whole thing off.
So I ate a bagel to fortify myself for the phone call to cancel, and then as I was lying on my bed waiting for the hycosamine tablet to finish dissolving under my tongue (yuck) decided that maybe just for the sake of science I’d go ahead and keep the appointment anyway.
Righty-o. And now, I have to go help Eldest get ready for her performance tonight. She (and her entire class, AND the second graders) are singing holiday songs.
I am bringing my knitting.
But not my earplugs, because that would be