2003-06-18 - 8:29 a.m.
Bliss! And... a little discomfort
There is one word in this world that spells bliss. One word that makes me feel instantly better when my body hates me. One word that gives me hope for the future.
Vioxx.
Miracle pill! Oh, great anti-inflammatory that I only have to take once! Oh, dear pill with no discernible side effects (for me, anyway)! How I love thee!
Seriously, though. I popped a Vioxx yesterday after consulting with my gynecologist and my mother, and my back feels SO much better. I still have a little aching, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was. Thank goodness. I have a lot to do today. K and the baby are coming over and we’re going to lunch, then people are coming to pick up the entertainment center and the coffee table, then I’m going to dinner tonight, and I have to load Mom’s car in between. Lots to do.
But not an overwhelming amount. booger’s brother came over yesterday to help me move some of the bulkier stuff. He’s a sous-chef, so he has mornings off, but yesterday was his day off and he came to help me anyway. I bought him five six-packs of beer as payment. It was SO worth it, even though he kept saying that it wasn’t because I had so little stuff. He carried all of this shit by himself, and he even threw my Ikea stuff into the dumpster in a manly show of strength. He’s a funny guy. He’s hooking us up for dinner tonight at the fency-schmency restaurant downtown where he works, and for all of this I am extremely grateful.
In the middle of all of this mess, I had to go to the gynecologist yesterday. I love my GYN, and I shlep to Baltimore to see her. She’s great; that exam takes a full five minutes and it’s over. But yesterday I happened to get a look at the tool she uses to take the pap smear.
It looks like the fork they give you at Nathan’s Famous!!!!!
Seriously. Men, pay attention: it’s a long stick with a FORK on the end. Well, not quite a fork; it looks more like a cross between a fork and a toothbrush. This thing is stuck up into no-man’s-land, where it scrapes. This fork-stick-thing goes into an area that HURTS when it is bumped by huge, throbbing man muscle. If we complain then, just think about the feeling that this fork-stick-toothbrush business gives us. Not pretty or fun.
But not horrible, either. It was a little worse for me this time because I kept thinking about the fork-stick-toothbrush-lancet dealie that was poking my cervix. But then it was all over. And I cleaned myself up, smiled and shook the doc’s hand and went along my merry way.
Hmm. Someone has her fingers UP MY HOO-HOO and I walk away with a smile and a handshake. Gee.
But that’s all fine. However, the next time someone’s fingers are up my hoo-hoo, they a) better belong to someone with a penis and b) have a thumb that gently massag—
*ahem* Excuse me.
Packing. Right. Soon. I promise.
