It might just be my penchant for the dramatic, but I'm pretty certain I'm going to die. Soon.
The last few days have been spent urinating in jars and losing blood through needles and breathing into test-tubes and drinking barium and being exposed to cosmic rays and prodded by jerky medical-types and ridiculous machines. Aside from the allergies, there's something wrong with my abdomen, which I consider to be one of the most essential parts of me because it connects my head and my genitals.
A person in my position does not, as I did this morning, want to hear the following conversation:
Nurse (whilst looking at x-ray): That does not look good.
Doctor: Wow, yeah, that's a Really Bad One. Serious stuff. She should be concerned.
Margarita: What is it?
Nurse: Your doctor will have the results in 5 business days.
Margarita: Yeah, but-
Nurse: You'd better talk to your doctor.
At least I can assume I'll still be alive in five days.
Which is long enough to give a shoutout to Dani and Robyn for being my first houseguests in the new place. We used all three chairs and all three bowls, and there was tea and fortune cookies and asian cuisine and glam rock and lists and giggles. A rowdy party indeed.
A person in my position does not, as I did this morning, want to hear the following conversation:
Nurse (whilst looking at x-ray): That does not look good.
Doctor: Wow, yeah, that's a Really Bad One. Serious stuff. She should be concerned.
Margarita: What is it?
Nurse: Your doctor will have the results in 5 business days.
Margarita: Yeah, but-
Nurse: You'd better talk to your doctor.
At least I can assume I'll still be alive in five days.
Which is long enough to give a shoutout to Dani and Robyn for being my first houseguests in the new place. We used all three chairs and all three bowls, and there was tea and fortune cookies and asian cuisine and glam rock and lists and giggles. A rowdy party indeed.