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2006-12-01 @ 9:30 p.m.
I must avoid atrophy...yes.


Woo hoo! Yay! Wooooot! Happy Snoopy Dance! Waaaaahooo! Yay! Wahhhhoooo! Yaaaahooooo! Waaaahooooo! Woooohoooo! Waaaaahoooooo! I’M NOT PREGNANT!

Well, duh! You have to have sex to be pregnant. But I had to take that stupid pregnancy test today when I went to the doctor’s. How stupid is that? I could have just told them that. I mean sure, I can pee in a cup for you, but why did you have to stand right by the front of the door while my nervous little girl pee parts were on high alert? Criminy, Nurse Twitsky, I’m trying to pee here and I can see the shadow of your nurse shoe under the door and I can hear you talking about Christmas shopping and driving here and driving there and getting your frickin’ car repaired and in the meantime, the most nervous girl in the world* (*that’s me, incidently) is hunched over a little plastic cup marked “witty” going “will you shut the fuck up!”

I finally managed to produce a sample. Thanka, thanka, very much...and then did my second least favorite thing. Getting on the scale. Its too frightening to look anymore and since they don’t let you strip down to total nudity in the hallway, I just shut my eyes, while she kept flicking the damn weight scale thingie up...up...up. All right already. I won’t eat any more of those things I ate yesterday. Oh, but how yummy. I had driven out to get my car headlight fixed and the guy wasn’t there, so I was forced...forced I tell you(!) to go to this bakery across the street to use a phone. And since the woman was so incredibly nice to let me use her phone, I felt, well, somewhat obligated to buy a little yummie. Okay, it seemed little until I started eating it. It was coconut and chocolate chips on a graham cracker and it was so rich, I thought I was going to fall into a diabetic coma as I was driving home. But that lady was so nice for letting me use her phone! I was obligated, damnit!!

So Nurse Twitsky led me into the examining room and looked at the paperwork and then at me. Her: “So, are you getting the depo shot to slow down your periods?”

WTF! Its for birth control, woman! Can’t you see that I’m a stunning example of a sexual goddess in her prime. That I’m ripe! That I’m lush! That men are driving their cars off the road when they see me! Chhh--hrist! You should be so lucky, you little frigid lawn gnome!!

I guess she saw the error in her way, because she did say, “I guess its none of my business."

I finally got to see my lesbian doctor who gave me the fantabulous news of my non-pregnant state. Wow! Really? And then when I asked her if the depo shot was my best line of defense, she shook her head and said women “condoms”. Great! I had actually gone the depo route twice before when I was with Married Guy (me whacking myself in the head, especially since we never “got biblical”). But see how stupid hormones make you? And then she gave me the horrifying news, that if you don’t have sex for a really really really realllll-lllly long time (why was she looking at me?), your vagina can atrophy. So naturally that was like a punchline waiting to happen, so I was like, “Well, I better tell Handyman we have a deadline this weekend then!” (me laughing nervously). She laughed too and said there really was no pressure.

That’s what you think. atrophy atrophy atrophy atrophy atrophy

We also discussed the overwhelming fatigue and pain I’ve been feeling lately, so she ordered some blood tests in addition to my depo shot. And my god, you would have thought she was making the nurses perform brain surgery standing on one leg for 12 hours or something. They were all running around saying “Blood test AND Depo? I thought she was only a Depo. I don’t understand this!! Why is she getting blood tests??”

BECAUSE I AM, NITWITS!!

I really don't like getting my blood drawn there because, in a word, they are terrible. My last blood test, the nurse poked me three times and left a bruise about the size of a dog biscuit, which stayed for almost three weeks. I looked like a freakin’ junkie. So I made the mistake of telling Nurse Twitsky the Tale of The Dog Biscuit Sized Bruise and guess what happened? Go ahead....guess! She punctured me...no blood and then she ran crying down the hall for another nurse to do the blood test. The other nurse, who I was later told, was NOT a nurse (what the hell?) came in, grabbed my arm really roughly, poked it with her dirty ass, ungloved finger and said, “Oh, I’ll just put the needle in the same hole!”

Now, I’m a germ-a-phobe. I was looking at her fingernail, which looked a teensy bit dirty and I got totally skeeved out. Plus she was a rather large woman. Nothing wrong with that of course, but she kept knocking stuff over and then picking things up...you know, germy things in a lab. I finally had to close my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt a prick. She said she put the needle in the same hole, but as I look at it tonight, there are definitely two holes.

And then Nurse Twitsky came back for the Depo Shot and you know what? I just couldn’t see putting my health and safety into the hands of a woman who 1) Had insinuated I wasn’t getting a birth control shot for sex, but rather merely to keep my menstrual cycle under control. 2) Had blanched when she fucked up a simple blood test. 3) Had almost dropped the Depo syringe when she told me she had to jab it deep into my muscle and I cringed. I wouldn’t trust this woman to jab a paperclip into a banana.

So I told her I wanted the other nurse to do it. Thats when she told me that the other person WASN’T a nurse, but she would get the doctor to give me the shot. Well, considering the average wait for my doctor is 45 minutes, I just buried my head in my hand and said, “Fine”. Fortunately in about 5 minutes a third person, presumably a nurse, came in and wanted me to take off my sweater, since the shot has to be given way up NEAR the shoulder. Fruck! And to think, Nurse Twitsky was ready to give it to me just above my elbow. So fortunately I was wearing a smokin’ tank top with an off-the-shoulder sweater, you know, waiting for that “Flash Dance” look to come back, and got the shot.

I just hope Handyman doesn’t forget our date again.


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