before you go pillage’n thru the bottom of yer purse for some loose change and a tic tac or post a heart break’n plea for donations on yer facebook page and forward it to yer legion of annoyed followers that get updates on every live’n moment of yer life…second by second...until they break down and block yer ass…this event…will NOT be televised!
by 3 am this particular morn’n… (after 2 weeks of hell) from the cold-like symptoms given to me as a gift from a substitute trainer…leave’n me with the voice of an exotic porn star who had smoked half their life away…and make’n my throat feel like i had been chew’n on shards of broken glass every time i swallowed (hey…keep it clean…i was sleep’n…alone…again!)
something had to be done!
though i knew the insurance phone lines weren’t open til 8 am that brisk monday morn’n…direct'n me to the world wrestle’n federation of automation voice from hell til i would be connected to an actual breath’n voice so they could direct me to the closest doctor (or mortician at this point)…i was in no mood for choke’n on any more jello squares and antioxidant popsicles any longer…so i got up to get somethin’ refresh’n and chilled…and the only thing left in my frigid air was a shot of oj and 3 strawberries wear’n the latest out-of-tastebud-fashion green fur coat...that is never in fashion…hmmm?
i was in no mood for experimentation…so i opted for the oj
ummm...yea…thing is though…apparently…as much as my mind told my stomach to give me the shot…my throat told me somethin’ else!
after the painfully burn’n of the citric acid (which might as well been sulfuric acid) on my throat subsided…i rocked myself to sleep (insert whatever dirty lil innuendo you want here) fer a couple hours
when the insurance company had finally opened…i was ready to pile drive the autovoiced b*tch that kept taunt’n me by say’n “i did not understand what you said” blah blah blah…when i FINALLY got a human nurse that directed me to the closet hospital fer an appointment with the doctor
i arrive at the hospital and was forced to doggie paddle in the wait’n pool area with a bunch of non believers of under arm deodorant and ritualistic bathers
GREAT!
luckily…i had my steno pad with 3 sharpened no. 2 pencils in hand…to entertain myself artistically in case inspiration should smack me up side the head at any given moment…why not!
and either i was experience’n flashbacks from some bad antacid trip in the 90’s…or the nurse try’n to check me in looked like Popeye’s girlfriend who chomped on too much of his spinach and her left hand and feet got all the effects
after i gave her my license…insurance card and social security card for identification purposes…she still couldn’t find me in their system (after i had just talked to the nurse less than 45 minutes earlier who booked me there)
i was about ready to give her a stool sample…when the rest of the spinach must’ve kicked in and she had me on her monitor
20 minutes past my scheduled appointment…they finally send me in to have the nurse give me the routine ear…throat …20 question patty-cake game…and to wait fer the doctor (and from his name…i wood...it sounded all general hospital and all)…but instead…who walks in but some medical student with a limpy ogilvie home perm…and badly waxed eyebrows…(you know what i’m talk’n about…done at a Fantastic Sam’s just to save 5 bux…the kind that end up with one perfectly arched brow…and the other look’n like a frowny face)
miss frowny brow in a bad polyester blend not only redoes EVERYTHING the previous nurse had just done…but also what the previous telephone nurse had asked me (does NOBODY type this sh*t in the system?)…i was done play’n the patty-cake questions…i just wanted to see dr. hotness…get my pap smear…WAIT!...get my drugs and go to work (and i never want to go to work)
she leaves…and comes back with yet ANOTHER medical student…(i swear i was on some twisted episode of candid camera or MTV’S boiling point)…but at least this student was tall…dark…and so Patrick Dempsey…in a Colin Farrel way
i no longer wanted…nor had any desire…to see the scheduled doctor i had ordered…and though he did the same routine as the 2 previous…less attractive nurses…i figered…3 times a charm…right?
he at least made small talk…oddly asked my about my beauty mark and how long it was there…if it was real...and if i was single
ok...before we continue on with this harlequeen novel of a blog...YES my beauty mark is REAL...I REALLY PUT IT THERE!!
and before you all start tweet'n 'n' text'n your shock to the universe...
and collect'n yer bets...here's the back story "behind the beauty"
it was my high school obsession with Marilyn Monroe...my Linus blanket if you will
makes me feel...you know...ummm...pretty...any ?'s
so puhleez...no more gawk'n at it....try'n to touch it...ponder'n why it's never in the same place all the time...smaller or bigger...or tell'n me to just tattoo it on (for those who've known my "deep dark secret" all these years)
NOW...if you would allow me to continue....
where was i?
oh yes...but the writing was on the wall!
so after consult’n with miss polyblend frowny brow and the first egg donor…(all 3 just inches away from popp’n my privacy bubble)…he said he’d be right back (damn…why didn’t i pack my emergency compact to tone down the forehead shine)…or even better yet…why hasn’t one hospital yet toned down the florescent usage with a pink gel light…at the very least…for moments like these?
i figered he wanted to speak with me ”privately”….and i was right
he returned…alone…and addressed me straight in the eye…(as i undressed him with mine)...it felt as if the balcony windows from some italian villa were blown wide open by his presence…and the silhouette of his massive chest peered thru the silky curtains…Sade’s “this is no ordinary love” echo’n thru the wind….i realized one thing…i’m not gonna be a statistic…not me…my single life…as i was soo accustomed to…was about to change…FOREVER…(or at least for the next 20 seconds)
instead…he asked me…”when was the last time you had oral sex?”...(record scratch’s)…i’m like…”why doc…i barely know you…and i see yer not wear’n any knee pads!”
as i started to unbuckle my belt...unbutton my Gloria Vanderbilt’s (and undo my dignity...again) i told him about 3 and a half months ago (true story)…i guess he just wanted to know what antibiotic to prescribe…just in case…but he said since it had been that long ago…and the symptoms are recent…it was likely not a STD…(thank CHER almighty!)
so without this turn’n into some sick after school special…turns out…i just had a strep throat!
(side note…i almost fergot…fer those stratch’n their think’n caps…you will probably see past…present and future references to “thank CHER”…get a ticket to the catch-up train…she’s been around since the beginn’n of time…she’s created my world…therefore…i shall give thanx and praise whenever appropriate!)
FINALLY…45 minutes…and 3 nurses later…in walks dr. who-cares-who-you-are…and at this point…i no longer did!
some pint sized…unibrow cousin of M*A*S*H’s Klinger…who looked at the other nurses while address’n me…say’n the same blah blah blah i had previously been recited
i just wanted him out of the room…and thank CHER he did…but of course not before give’n me his antiseptic analysis tell’n me that i was in the age bracket of need’n a regular doctor for regular check-ups…(you know this guy sets an egg timer for foreplay)
really doc?...ummm…here’s a quarter…go see a movie…and puhleez!!...get off my dress!
ps…once back in nurse Dempsey’s vision…i was much more will’n to listen…so he prescribed me my meds…and said to contact him personally in a week if the swell’n doesn’t go down (i was like…”but doc…it’s only just begun”)…but that it should go down in 2/3 days with the meds
and it did!
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