You know what’s just GREAT?
When your doctor tells you your knee is — and I quote — “creepy.” And let’s not forget the Phrase That Pays… “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be connected.”
Yeah, I did it. I finally gave up and went to the doctor for my jacked-up joints. And he and his medical student threw around the word “rheumatoid” a lot more than I like, but we’ll just wait and see what the blood tests say, shall we? At least the x-rays were okay — so the knees aren’t actually BROKEN from my supreme balance and grace.
The fun part is all my doc’s nurses are now pissed as hell at him because he joked that I was getting old and they all heard him. The absolute sub-zero chill in their voices as they chorused “She’s 34…” warms the cockles of my old, decrepit heart (heh heh, cockles).
And of course I love to freak the doctor out. The last GYN exam I had, he told me he couldn’t find my cervix and I told him I left it in my other pants. So this time, he asked if I was double-jointed and I turned my feet around backwards (yeah, let’s see you fuckers with actual “cartilage” in your “joints” do something cool like that!) . Well, that’s the price he pays for my insurance money — I’m gonna do something fucked up on each and every visit.
And now an update:
Chuckweasel’s new blog: I’ve got him all set up and ready to go, but so far he hasn’t actually, well, blogged. As soon as he gets on the stick, I’ll throw y’all a link.
Callie Jean: MASSIVELY in love with a string of leftover chili cookoff tickets… it’s mere days before they’re confined to Mouseschwitz.
And y’all may have noticed Dear Sweet Mama hasn’t been around the ol’ blogosphere quite as much lately… that’s because she’s out in Oregon taking care of one of her sisters who isn’t doing too well health-wise. But DSM is the world’s greatest nurse — sympathy and compassion with just the right touch of hardass. Your good thoughts are appreciated, as are large crates of liquor.