Steady on, Doc. That's me you're talking about.

I'm so very excited this morning. Today is finally my appointment with the lady parts doctor. Some of you may remember that this has been a battle months in the making.

First, I called the local sheriff's office trying to book an appointment. And yes, I managed to spill the details of what procedures I needed done before the voice on the other line informed me of my dialing error. Then, I had to make an appointment with my regular doctor, who then referred me to this guy. Now I have to meet a man who will shake my hand and then shake his in my hoo-ha. Can't wait.

Let's not forget that I get nervous at doctor's offices and revert back to a 5 year old following directions. Who knows why...but I do. I hear about the first 4 words and then panic. When I had my initial blood work done after getting knocked up, I peed in the cup wrong. Turns out, I was supposed to pee in a cup AND a tube. Who pees in the cup wrong?! Me.

When I had my physical to donate plasma back in Fayetteville, I totally made an ass of myself. The doc there, who was totally not wanting to be there in the first place, told me to lay down on my back. Laid down on my stomach. He gave me such an Are you special? look and all I could do was shyly tell him that I get nervous.

And now, I recount all of those embarrassing details for the entire internet. What is wrong with me? Don't answer that. Here, have a present.



And your subject line quote is Fr. Vincent, "Ballykissangel" (1996) {Getting Better all the Time (#6.7)}.