She was all like, Hi! How are we feeling today!
And I was all like, ______________ !
And she was like, still having symptoms?
And I was all like, would I still be here?
She was all like, so it burns at the start of the pee.
I was all like, no, it doesn’t burn at the start of the pee, it burns all the time, up into my wahoo. And I’m bleeding. Remember me?
She was all like, no, it burns at the start of the pee, right?
I was all like, no, it doesn’t, it burns all the time, low-grade, into the vast, organ-packed nether-region that I have come to understand is my pelvis.
She was all like, no, you’re saying it burns at the opening of the urethra. Do you know what a urethra is?
I was all like, yes, I know what a urethra is, and I’m about to remove mine by hand and strangle you with it. NO, the opening of the urethra is not where it burns.
She was all like, of course it is.
And I was all like, duuuude, my entire pelvis feels pressure, and there is a road that burns up into the pelvis, and I am uncomfortable, and it feels like someone has dental floss tied around my cervix and is pulling my uterus out.
She was all like, well, that’s not happening.
I was all like, I know, I asked the ob/gyn about a prolapsed uterus in its early stages.
She was all like, IN YOUR FACE, THAT WOULD TOTALLY HAVE SHOWN UP ON THE ULTRASOUND, WENCH.
I was all like, no shit, Sherlock. But a simple kidney cyst of a fairly large size DID show up on the ultrasound. Could that have anything to do with anything?
So then she was all like, LET ME TAKE A FUCKING DUMP ON YOUR KNOW-IT-ALL HEAD, YOU SACK OF SHIT, THERE IS NO KIDNEY CYST.
And I was all like, let me tell you something, you discarded dead lab rat’s vagina, there IS a kidney cyst, and even my fucking FRIEND who came with me for moral support diagnosed THAT sucker from across the room, so BLOW MY URETHRA.
So then she was all like, LISTEN, YOU DISEASED CROCK OF SOME STD MEDICAL SCIENCE HAS YET TO DISCOVER, IF YOU HAD A KIDNEY CYST, I WOULD FUCKING KNOW ABOUT IT.
And I was all like, really? Because your buddy the radiologist? Guy-O who has five kids because his wife had a faulty Dalkon Shield in 1970? HE mentioned the kidney cyst, but he failed to mention the CONSTELLATION OF FOLLICULAR CYSTS JAMMING UP THE I-95 JENNY FERTILITY EXPRESSWAY EXTENSION, BEE-YOTCH. What up with THAT?
And she was all like, oh, how is Dr. Silver? He’s such a sweetheart.
And I was all like, well, we know his frickin’ sperm are monsters, but hey, BACK TO ME.
And she was all like, EVERYBODY has FOLLICULAR CYSTS, you precocious, Google-addicted, fat-assed slut. Even Dr. Silver has them. Even Dr. Silver’s sperm has them. Shut up about your stupid motherfucking follicular cysts. I’m tired of hearing about them. Let me pound on your abdomen for a while.
And I was all like, damn, baby, that hurts. JAYSUS MARY AND JOSEPH.
And she was all like, TAKE IT. TAKE IT. TAKE IT.
And I was all like, I purposely did not wear my winter boots today, whore. I wore slip-ons. HA!
And she was all like, you feel that? That disgusting lump? TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT. Feel that?
And I was all like, lady, fucking New Zealand felt that.
And she was like, did you have a bowel movement today, you doped-up sac of bipolar crap?
And I was like, no. Could you please not say “bowel movement”?
And she was all like, take a laxative, you little shit.
And I was like, did you forget the part about my constant raging diarrhea, or was that your sweet twin sister who went to medical school?
And she was all like, hmm. Shut up. Your chart says we didn’t find any bacteria in your urine.
And I was all like, friggin’ duhhhhh. That’s because your after-hours person put me on the bazooka drug Avelox so I peed rubbing alcohol into your cup.
And she was all like, hmmmm. Shut up. The ob-gyn’s chart says they found nitrites in your urine.
And I was all like, what does that mean?
And she was all like, fuck if I know. Let’s throw some drugs at it.
And I was all like, you DO know the ob/gyn already has me on Flagyl.
And she was all like, that’s METRODIANDALIDYSIZOALEZOLE to you, FUCKWAD.
And I was all like, whatever, it just seems like somebody should maybe culture the bacteria and find out what we’re dealing with, so I don’t go into anaphylactic shock, or kidney failure, or death from too many fucking providers who don’t communicate to one another.
She was all like, screw you and the mother you rode in on.
And I was all like, oh, by the way? WHAT UP with your peeps not taking my temperature, like, ever? At the ob/gyn? My temp was in between 95-96F. Is it true there’s a low temperature syndrome? Or could there be thyroid issues?
And she was all like, you need to dress more warmly, dumbass.
And I was all like, I sleep with three quilts, flannel pajamas, a fleece robe, and a fire hazard shooting Easy Bake Oven temperatures at me all night. In the morning, I’m a red velvet cupcake. And I still can’t get warm.
And she was all like, talk to the diploma.
I was all like, my BP is 100/60. I am as pale as a fucking marshmallow, and I don’t know where the fuck my pee is going, if it’s not going into the toilet. I am peeing thimbles of liquid. My cat would die if it had to live on the amount of water that I am peeing. So I don’t think a new fucking parka from Lands’ End is going to save the day, asswipe.
And she was all like, That’s it, you twisted dick-licker. You’re going to the urologist. I bet you’ve got a urethral stricture. A kink in your urethra, you kinky douchebag. Just you wait and see what he’s going to do to straighten that sucker out. Yeah. Good luck with THAT, shit-slime.
And I was like, if my uterus falls out, I am stuffing it in a USPS box and mailing it to your home.
And she was like, I’ll hang it on my wall right next to my diploma, you tumor-engorged monkey.
And I was all like, I want my paperwork. My blood work.
And she was all like, I don’t know if the printer’s working today.
And I was all like, I’ll wait.
And she was all like, great seeing you.
And I was all like, yeah, thanks.
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