it sucked

I arrived at the doctor’s office a few minutes late, but nothing serious. I updated my paperwork, and waited for what seemed like a very long time – in reality, it was 40 minutes so I guess it WAS a very long time – before I was ushered into a tiny room and told to have a seat. Naturally, I started taking pictures instead:

no KY will be necessary, thanks - I have everything I need for vaginal lubrication riiiiiiight here

A quick look at Twitter led me to Jen’s news, so I offered to help her out by stealing some stuff:

some of this stuff must be useful to someone

She didn’t need any of the drug samples but expressed interest in the see-through womb – unfortunately, I wasn’t carrying a bag in which I could smuggle the creepy-ass thing out for her.

Then it was time!

well, this is awkward

As uncomfortable as the whole “spread wide open for the world” thing is, I kind of want one of these setups for home. Who DOESN’T want stirrups attached to the bed for sexy times? Communists, that’s who.

The exam was fairly routine, except for my bumpy cervix. She asked if I knew I had a bump down there – no ma’am I did not – so she took a machete and cut the fucker off. Ow! It’s off to the lab for testing, but she wasn’t too worried – after all, if it was anything bad, it’s already gone because she cut it off. Great! I think.

I spoke to the doctor about my recurring issue of BAD TIMES AT VAGINA HIGH – unfortunately, there was nothing down there. I had an incident last week, but it is sneaky and disappeared before my appointment – so she sent me off with homework:

why are all things they want me to shove in there so terrifying and huge?

Next time I have an issue, I need to swab the decks and send any mysterious fluids off for testing to see what I’m mutating into. Hooray! Except, no. Still, it’ll be good to determine exactly what the fuck that thing is and if I need to take to flamethrower to it – I want it to be gone. Recurring things that are not awesome have no place in my vagina or anywhere else.

I got dressed to head to my next appointment, but as I was getting dressed I spied something unseemly:

i am not nearly as stressed about labour as i am your liberal use of comic sans

What the fuck is with that walnut? I don’t want to give birth to children; what makes you think I want to give birth to a member of the Juglandaceae family? Terrible. And the Comic Sans? No. Just .. no.

I tried to get in to see the doctor with the pills, but he doesn’t work on Mondays so I made an appointment for this Saturday. A trip to the bank to deposit my pennies, London Drugs for some post-dentist pity chocolate, drive-thru for a refreshing beverage – but I still had 3 hours to kill, so I went to Winners to try on everything (it all sucked), and Old Navy (it also all sucked, but I got a lunch box). I scooted downtown in the scorching heat, parked at work, then went to Pacific Center for some food before the dentist. All too quickly, it was time:

this is going to suck

I hated every second of the appointment, but truthfully it wasn’t THAT bad. I watched the last 10 minutes of Mythbusters and half a Buffy episode, and it was done – two new fillings, a chip fixed, and several old things pried out and replaced. When the freezing wore off, I was sore – but not nearly as sore as my Visa: my dental benefits for the year are maxed out, and the visit cost over $550 out of pocket. What’s worse, this was the first appointment of two to fix stuff up: I have another next Monday, and that one is scheduled to cost $640. All that for the privilege of a sore mouth and cranky face times? OH BOY!

Ed is going to submit the paperwork to his benefits and we might get some of it back, but he doesn’t know how much if any. This blows, and was totally unavoidable – the alternative was to continue thinking I needed a dozen root canals, and have things just get worse. As it is, I’m getting off lucky with the three minor fillings I need; it’s the replacement of my toxic silver fillings that are costing me millions. This is full of suck, but what’s to be done? Nothing. So, here we are.

Today is going to be better than yesterday, OR ELSE. In fact, I’m already ahead of the curve – no one is expecting me to open up so they can look inside and charge me money. Isn’t that kind of backwards? Shouldn’t they be paying ME? I am the worst whore ever.

8 thoughts on “it sucked

  1. See, I appreciate people who have terrible brochures with walnuts and comic sans, because if I WERE giving birth to a walnut and was a little stressed about it (and who wouldn’t be? PEOPLE DON’T GIVE BIRTH TO WALNUTS!) I would want to know ahead of time what kind of person was going to coach me through this particular horror.

    And if she’s the sort of person who’d use comic sans in a non-ironic way, we are not going to get along.

    But if she’d gone ahead and gotten a professionally designed brochure with reasonable fonts and pretty pictures not involving walnuts… I might have been fooled.

    So thank people who have small budgets and do their own work, because it helps you pick the right person to help you squeeze out that walnut.

  2. You have beautiful ankles. I don’t know one font from another and comic sans isn’t available on my Debian machine so there’s no way I could offend you by using it. As for the whole motherhood question, OK, you don’t want to be a mommy. I don’t have any problem at all with that. Why are you so obsessed with it? I’m not going to quote Shakespeare, that’s way to tacky, but you know the quote I have in mind, don’t you?

    • eldergeek: If you are female and of a certain age (ie, over 30), especially if you’re married (as Kimli is) … you can’t avoid it. Not only are you constantly asked when you’re planning to have children (not if!) and then winked at knowingly with a condescending “Suuuure…” when you mention that you’ve declined a side order of Babies.

      Let’s just say that it’s fucking annoying, and if people didn’t stop harassing you about it EVER, you’d probably make it a frequent topic too.

      • Yes. That. Exactly.

        I’m in exactly that situation, and people just WILL NOT leave me alone. I can’t go ANYWHERE* without someone asking me if I’ve changed my mind yet. It drives me insane!

        *except work, where they actively don’t want me to have children, but aren’t allowed to say so.

  3. I have never liked walnuts now, even less. walnuts always look like testicles to me, and i do not want Comic Sans to advertise testicles.

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