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It's everything I want to tell people when they make small talk and profound talk, but I often can't. Sickness, sex, and the process of dealing with aging parents feel unspeakable and sometimes unreachable, but they sure aren't here.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Tidbit's Little Sister Strikes

The nurse said I have to come in for the resolution of Cyst v. Tumor. I would prefer to stick my head in the sand or cover my ears and scream LA-LA-LA-LA, though I think other patients would stare. The last time I had an intermeddler in my body, it was a polyp that caused crazy bleeding and also caused me to withdraw from the bar exam. I named it Tidbit. YOU try explaining that to the board of law examiners. Depending on what the ultrasound says, you might be hearing another nickname from me for whatever malfunction my body has decided to undertake. Lucifer? I learned at 8:40 this morning that my ultrasound results hadn't arrived at the other city hospital where I see this specialist (actually, a specialist within a specialty, that's how silly it's gotten). I called the local hospital wrangling my results. Last word is that they were in fact faxed to the right party as of 8:45 a.m. Guess who isn't acting like Miss Confuckinggeniality through this?


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