I went to the doctor’s office today fully expecting to be sent home. I was told that the fatty lipoma was pretty large, in the chest muscle (in my back-go figure) and I would probably have to have it removed at the surgical center.
I told Tightwad that. I told my co-workers that. I told my sister that. I told myself that.
I was wrong.
“It’s fairly large, but I think we can do it here. Would you like to have it done now, or have us schedule you at the surg-center?” Dr. Seriousness asked, as he stood there with the Physician’s Assistant "student". She was shadowing him for the day, and I think I was part of the show.
“Let’s do it!” I said, hoping to be done with this whole crazy thing.
I was on the table being carved like a tough Thanksgiving Day turkey when the nurse said to the doctor, “She’s a celebrity, you know. She’s the teacher who writes those funny columns for the newspaper! The kindergarten teacher!”
I was laying face down on the table with my head turned, and tried to answer the questions the nurse and the “student doctor” were firing at me in an effort to distract me from the twelve-pound boulder they were trying to YANK from the middle of my back.
The doctor, who I THOUGHT was a bit busy, asked, “Did you ever teach your own children?”
“Hell no!” I replied. “I can barely even LIVE with them.”
I heard the elusive guffaw from stone cold Dr. Seriousness and his loyal nurse; it was music to my ears.
Now, someone pass the Motrin. I’m a WEE bit sore.
(I am thrilled to have been chosen as an "LG TextEd Ambassador" by BlogHer. The fact that the only way we communicate in this house by texting has increased my rep GREATLY over there. Fortunately, there was no spelling test involved, and they don't really know that profanity comprises MOST of the texts. Moms with kids- check it out. You will either be there SOON, or you are already. Never say never people. Haven't you learned a THING over here???)