Monday, September 15, 2008

Doctor, doctor ...

So yesterday, when my monthly bill arrived, I found out that I am, for certain, not pregnant. Believe it or not, there was a question, although I do actively prevent conception. But the reason there was a question is because I have been nauseous (excuse me. NAUSEATED.) and dizzy for two weeks. Mix those with PMS symptoms and you often equal pregnancy. I, however, got the flu in the middle of my dizzy/nausea thing. Now the flu is over and the dizziness and nausea are still here. There is obviously another problem -- probably a brain tumor.

So I decided I need to go see my doctor, who scares me, but whom I regard as something of a miracle worker, considering last year's revelation of my B12 deficiency.

So I came in to work today. I picked up the phone and called the doctor's office. There was a message that said they will be open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I hung up.

I picked the phone up again, deciding to leave a message. I listened to the outgoing message. I hung up before leaving my own message.

I picked up the phone again. I hung up.

Picked it up. Hung it up.

Forty-five minutes later. Picked it up, spoke to the receptionist, secured an appointment for tomorrow at 2:30.

Dread, dread, dread.

I am supposed to have been a faithful Weight Watchers member for the last 5 months. The only thing I have been faithfully doing is eating ice cream, and have, in fact, gained back the 10 lbs I lost in the first place.

I am supposed to have been monitoring my blood pressure. This has not been done in months.

Oh, dread.

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