Today, I feel like I gave birth, minus the fat little baby you get to go home with.
Except that I already have a fat little baby, so I guess I'm okay with that.
I had to apologize to my doctor. Last week, things were hurting, and I said, "OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" Maybe I didn't actually say it. I might have kind of yelled it. Maybe.
I mentioned that it felt like he was trying to fit a Hummer into a garage built for a Harley.
I'm sorry if I lost you there, what with all the technical medical terminology and such. I'll try to keep this in layman's terms from here on out.
He responded that while I was asleep, he'd be better able to fit that Hummer in there. He proceeded to say (with hand motions, lest I misunderstood) that he'd be able to stick his whole head in there and take a look around. You know, see what's up.
Good to know.
After it was all over, he spoke to Hubs for a few moments about how it went. He said the lab would have the results back sometime next week. My FIL (who was there to support me, and brought Hubs donuts and chocolate milk, but didn't brink me any, even though I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since midnight, so that I wouldn't puke all over anybody while I was there, but I thought it was kind of mean anyway, especially since Hubs walked in with SUGAR in the corner of his mouth, along with a bottle of cold chocolate milk, and I wonder how many commas I can put in here, and just how long I can make this aside go, okay I think that about covers it) asked my doctor, "Why does the lab have to interpret the results? Aren't you a doctor?"
Want to know what he said?
Wait for it...
"No, but I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last night."