DISCLAIMER: Do not be concerned by some of the situations in this post. I am not dying. I am not in pain. There is no emergency taking place.
Question: Why, when asked to come to the ER for a quick once over by my (well, not really my, but the on call doctor in cahoots with my OB/GYN) doctor, am I worried that I didn't shave my legs?
Question: Why did the doctor (him in blue examination gloves, me in a ..., well I had a sheet across my lap) say I was "well nurished"?
Does that mean fat?
Just because I'm in stirrups, mister, doesn't mean I can't kick.
Question: What am I supposed to make of the down there doctor's parting words, "It's been a pleasure."
Even the ER nurse turned to me and said, "Haven't heard that before."
Trouble is, I have. But it was a girl doctor.
Better or worse?
You decide.
Question: Why am I giddy like a school girl that I am:
a) checking into the hospital (day spa)
b) going to be out under general anesthesia (taking drugs with NO GUILT)
c) having a hystrectomy (better loose at least 3 lbs)
d) forced to stay over night to watch for infection (girls night-party of one!)
e) going to be in pain for a few days afterwards (more pills, no problem)
f) restricted to bed rest (Bachelorette reruns here I come)
If you can help me sort through my pain and confusion, I'd appreciate it.
