I’ve been trying to write. Stories, not this blog. And Life happened. As usual. A minor thing. Performed in a doctor’s office. But it’s knocked me flat on my keester, so to speak.
It’s amazing how a bit of physical discomfort can just totally ruin a person’s concentration.
And I have a new ‘catch phrase’ for something I’d rather not do. I used to say, “I’d rather have a root canal.” Now I would say, “I’d rather have a uterine biopsy.” With heartfelt passion. But more people would still understand the root canal. And those who don’t understand “uterine biopsy” – consider yourself very, very lucky.
TMI? Sorry. But sometimes knowing Latin is not altogether a blessing. Hearing your doctor mutter, while reading an ultrasound report, “Tiny os. Hmmmmm” is not in the least reassuring. Then having hims ask his nurse to “get the lacrimal probe” is downright nerve wracking.
It’ll be at least a week until I hear the results. Meanwhile, OUCH!