::Serendipity::

Day Seven, But Who's Counting? ________________________________________________________________

Well, you all said Xander would get used to having his cousin around all day, and he has. No more fits. He's not demanding anymore. He's back to his old agreeable self! All I had to do was write about it and voila! In fact, his cousin had the stomach flu yesterday and he stayed home with his mom and Xander kept asking for him all day. Today they came late while Xander was napping and now his cousin is napping. Xander keeps going upstairs because he wants to get him up.

I don't know where he got it from, but Xander keeps saying "bad dog" when someone does something he doesn't like. For example, Timmy just putted. Passed gas. Farted. We all go "ew!" and Xander says, "Tim! Bad dog." I don't know what I've been feeding my oldest boy, but something died in his posterior.

Beware: The following remarks are of a sensitive female nature and may make those of the male persuasion uncomfortable.

So I went to my OB yesterday for my annual. Of course he was late because he got stuck on the phone. No problem. But why oh why does the magazine rack have to be so far away from the exam table? The minute I get up to look at the new Rachael Ray magazine or read about High School Musical 2 on People (shocking that he had magazines that were less then six months old and not sports related!), he would come in and I'd give him a full moon view. So I sat. And sat. Michael doesn't understand this. What would the big deal be if he saw my butt? He's seen the rest of me. What's the big deal? The big deal is, I'm there for a crotch check, not an ass check. Mooning my OB was not part of my agenda. No matter how much I wanted to see the gingerbread houses that Rachael made.

So he arrived, and apologized that he was on the phone. I've been an anxious pregnant woman, I understood. Besides, he's one of the few doctors who actually calls back his patients. All my other doctors communicate through their nurses. It's like playing a stupid game of telephone. I call and ask for the doc. The nurse calls to find out my problem. I tell the nurse. The nurse calls the doctor, who has more questions for me. Then the nurse talks to the doctor and calls me back to ask which pharmacy to use. It's such a time waster! He even called me a few times the first week after I had Xander to check on me personally. He didn't even deliver Xander, his partner did! I like this guy. He takes good care of his patients.

So I told him about my suspicion of peri-menopause. I told him that I think I'm getting old. He laughs at me. I tell him I'm serious because I think I'm starting menopause. He laughs at me again. I told him I'm really serious because I have insomnia, my periods are too light for tampons when I have one at all and the hot flashes are driving me nuts. He said her seriously doubted it, that my birth control pills should mask or fix my symptoms anyway. He calls his nurse in to start my exam. I've been sweating so much, that the white paper is stuck to my butt and when he asks me to "scoot down, please," I can't. He says,"Um, maybe you are starting. Let's check your hormone levels."

posted by Terri at 12/11/2007 02:46:00 PM >11 comments

11 Comments:

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