play-by-play
so i really fucked myself over today.
two days ago:
wednesday morning i awoke and looked in the mirror, naturally. my face is covered in these tiny bumps. i've never had an allergic reaction to anything, but this is what i assumed it was. i racked my brain for any new products i might've started using, but could think of none.
one day ago:
thursday morning, the rash is now visible along my neck and chest. it's not itchy; more uncomfortable, like the feeling of being sunburned where you suddenly have a recollection that your body is covered in skin. things like bras and purse straps become a nuisance.
since cassidy's bday would be the next day, along with her bday dinner, i decided i would call out, using this rash as an excuse.
eight hours ago:
i set my alarm for 8 am to schedule an appointment with the dermadoc. i figured if i was going to call out for being sick, i should have some sort of note with an M.D.'s signature to ensure my validity.
as i walked to the bathroom, the nausea that had hit me earlier in the week was even more acute. so acute that i could taste it, literally. i threw up some in the sink and then i moved to mark my territory upon the toilet bowl. this is what alanis morisette should've been singing about in her song. this was ironic. i had to call out of work.
six hours ago:
i walked into the minute clinic across the street. the doctor was french black, maybe haitian or something, but not the ones that roam garage sales ready to barter. i explained all my symptoms. he thinks i'm pregnant. i say "oh no, i've never had sex." he stares at me, smirks, and asks "when was the last time?" i say "no. i've never had sex. never." him, "oh. it's not that i don't believe you, it's just rare (especially with you being such a hot little number)."
five hours ago:
i leave the clinic with two shots of two somethings in one butt cheek, two shots of two other somethings in my other butt cheek. whatever the second something was, that hurt the most. i am sent to the hospital for some blood work and a sonogram.
three hours ago:
after using my flea market skills with the co-pay authorizer, my payment drops from $350 to $177 (maybe i've got some haitian in me). i get my blood taken out and have to pee in the cup, which i don't know how to aim for, resulting in most of the pee falling into the toilet.
two hours ago:
i am finally called for the sonogram. i've had a sonogram before, so i thought i knew what to expect. that lady dug that camera into my abdomen with such force that i wished i was pregnant so she would back the fuck up. then she tells me she needs to perform a vaginal ultrasound. i was told to undress. i was utterly embarrassed. i have been very unkempt in the nethers. remember that scene in waiting where the crazy hormonal girl decides to partake in the game of flashing genitalia? yeahhhhh...
the lady comes back in the room and lubes up the probe, says "open wide", and that's how i lost my virginity to mrs. dawn diehl.
two days ago:
wednesday morning i awoke and looked in the mirror, naturally. my face is covered in these tiny bumps. i've never had an allergic reaction to anything, but this is what i assumed it was. i racked my brain for any new products i might've started using, but could think of none.
one day ago:
thursday morning, the rash is now visible along my neck and chest. it's not itchy; more uncomfortable, like the feeling of being sunburned where you suddenly have a recollection that your body is covered in skin. things like bras and purse straps become a nuisance.
since cassidy's bday would be the next day, along with her bday dinner, i decided i would call out, using this rash as an excuse.
eight hours ago:
i set my alarm for 8 am to schedule an appointment with the dermadoc. i figured if i was going to call out for being sick, i should have some sort of note with an M.D.'s signature to ensure my validity.
as i walked to the bathroom, the nausea that had hit me earlier in the week was even more acute. so acute that i could taste it, literally. i threw up some in the sink and then i moved to mark my territory upon the toilet bowl. this is what alanis morisette should've been singing about in her song. this was ironic. i had to call out of work.
six hours ago:
i walked into the minute clinic across the street. the doctor was french black, maybe haitian or something, but not the ones that roam garage sales ready to barter. i explained all my symptoms. he thinks i'm pregnant. i say "oh no, i've never had sex." he stares at me, smirks, and asks "when was the last time?" i say "no. i've never had sex. never." him, "oh. it's not that i don't believe you, it's just rare (especially with you being such a hot little number)."
five hours ago:
i leave the clinic with two shots of two somethings in one butt cheek, two shots of two other somethings in my other butt cheek. whatever the second something was, that hurt the most. i am sent to the hospital for some blood work and a sonogram.
three hours ago:
after using my flea market skills with the co-pay authorizer, my payment drops from $350 to $177 (maybe i've got some haitian in me). i get my blood taken out and have to pee in the cup, which i don't know how to aim for, resulting in most of the pee falling into the toilet.
two hours ago:
i am finally called for the sonogram. i've had a sonogram before, so i thought i knew what to expect. that lady dug that camera into my abdomen with such force that i wished i was pregnant so she would back the fuck up. then she tells me she needs to perform a vaginal ultrasound. i was told to undress. i was utterly embarrassed. i have been very unkempt in the nethers. remember that scene in waiting where the crazy hormonal girl decides to partake in the game of flashing genitalia? yeahhhhh...
the lady comes back in the room and lubes up the probe, says "open wide", and that's how i lost my virginity to mrs. dawn diehl.