Violated...
Okay, so I go to the doc this morning to have an ultrasound done on my heart. Though my chest discomfort a month ago was the result of pneumonia, the doc insisted on this ultrasound to make sure that pneumonia was my only problem.
Simply put: Lying on a table in a darkened room with my shirt off and having a man smear this green gel on my chest is NOT how I pictured spending a morning. Apparently, the goo they put on the ultrasound 'mic' helps somehow. The whole procedure probably took less than 10 minutes, but it felt like 2 hours, since all I could do was lay there and wait for this guy to get all the pictures of my heart that he needed while he moved the 'probe'/'mic'/'thingy' all over my chest. Then I spent ten more minutes scrubbing green goo off my chest. EEEEEEEEYYYYYYUUUUUUCK!
I guess I didn't know what to expect. I just thought it would be taking off my shirt, sitting there, and letting them do a quick 'photo' of my heart or something. I was there when they did the ultrasound of both my kids, and both didn't take this long COMBINED. When the guy got done, I almost asked, "Is it a girl or a boy?" just to be funny. Instead, I just sucked in my gut, wiped more goo off my chest, and left. I climbed into my manly Expedition and cranked Rick and Bubba on the radio to try and recover any lost testosterone and to try to put the weirdness of the experience out of my mind. Sadly, all they were talking about - ironically - were pregnant women. Curse you, Rick and Bubba!!
I think I need to just spend the day in the garage with power tools or something, so I can overcome this desire to sit around the house and eat pickles.
...
On a different note, Kerry showed up at band practice last night with "Lick It Up" by KISS playing on the stereo in his Impala as loud as he could get it. LOL. It triggered a traumatic flashback to 1983, and it was like 10 minutes or more before I could see straight again and stop shivering. Eric summed up how I felt later as he muttered, "Kiss sucks" as Kerry drove off. Heh. So did most things about 1983.
Later. Gotta go eat a pickle.
Simply put: Lying on a table in a darkened room with my shirt off and having a man smear this green gel on my chest is NOT how I pictured spending a morning. Apparently, the goo they put on the ultrasound 'mic' helps somehow. The whole procedure probably took less than 10 minutes, but it felt like 2 hours, since all I could do was lay there and wait for this guy to get all the pictures of my heart that he needed while he moved the 'probe'/'mic'/'thingy' all over my chest. Then I spent ten more minutes scrubbing green goo off my chest. EEEEEEEEYYYYYYUUUUUUCK!
I guess I didn't know what to expect. I just thought it would be taking off my shirt, sitting there, and letting them do a quick 'photo' of my heart or something. I was there when they did the ultrasound of both my kids, and both didn't take this long COMBINED. When the guy got done, I almost asked, "Is it a girl or a boy?" just to be funny. Instead, I just sucked in my gut, wiped more goo off my chest, and left. I climbed into my manly Expedition and cranked Rick and Bubba on the radio to try and recover any lost testosterone and to try to put the weirdness of the experience out of my mind. Sadly, all they were talking about - ironically - were pregnant women. Curse you, Rick and Bubba!!
I think I need to just spend the day in the garage with power tools or something, so I can overcome this desire to sit around the house and eat pickles.
...
On a different note, Kerry showed up at band practice last night with "Lick It Up" by KISS playing on the stereo in his Impala as loud as he could get it. LOL. It triggered a traumatic flashback to 1983, and it was like 10 minutes or more before I could see straight again and stop shivering. Eric summed up how I felt later as he muttered, "Kiss sucks" as Kerry drove off. Heh. So did most things about 1983.
Later. Gotta go eat a pickle.
1 Comments:
wow...I'd forgotten about that.
But at least it wasn't a man. Yikes...
Thank God my experience was 'sack'-less.
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