So, my first earthquake was awesome. Infinitely more so because there were no fatalities (reported so far)! Take that, Mother Nature.
I told my mother I was really glad the earthquake happened after my doctor's appointment. Imagine that PAP smear. Phew.
So yeah, survived an earthquake. I was sitting on my bed, eating lunch after getting home from my appointment when my bed started shaking a little. I thought, "No big deal, my dad is hammering something or they're packing up the car or my neighbors are doing something..." The first little bit wasn't bad. Two seconds after it stopped it came again, and I thought it was my dad again, but then a part of me thought it was a ghost.
In my defense I watch a lot of movies, and I'm 98% sure my house is haunted, and 100% sure my neighbor's side of our duplex is haunted.
But then I thought, if my dad is hammering something in the kitchen, directly under my room, why isn't there any sound? So I yell out, "What are you doing?!" A few seconds later my mother screamed up the stairs, "What are you doing?! Are you alright?!" So she thought it was me until she realized it wasn't. The house was still shaking as I got up to go downstairs.
My dad gets home from work at about 1:30, so we were all home-- but nobody else on our street was! We thought we were crazy at first, but then my mother decided to call the police and got a busy signal-- so we were glad it wasn't just us.
My cell phone service was interrupted for a little bit, but once it got back there was a flurry of texts-- most people enjoyed it and everything was fine. Herbert said we should have earthquakes more often, and I quite agree.
Eagle-eyed readers will say, "What were her parents packing?" I thought they were packing the car, as my brother Arthur and his wife Janet had rented a beach house in North Carolina for this week and my parents were driving down to join them, stopping overnight in Maryland, and getting to NC Wednesday.
But the Outer Banks of NC, where they were going, are beginning evacuation at 5 am Thursday morning because Hurricane Irene will be hitting Saturday.
S&O has become a natural disaster blog: earthquakes, hurricanes, and hobo weddings.
So my parents have decided not to go. I was so looking forward to my time alone...running errands, cooking tasty food (meat and vegetables were going to touch each other!) and baking tasty treats (homemade cinnamon rolls...)...it was going to be fun. Oh, well.
Now to the original purpose of this post: the GYN appointment.
My mother said before I went in that it was like going to the dentist. And she was right, in a weird way...there's really nothing else that compares to it like going to the dentist. It's awkward, it's uncomfortable, you're laying down...but it's not as devastatingly awful as I thought it would be, and over much, much faster than I would have thought.
Seeing the various absorbent coverings on the examination table made me realize that they've probably seen horrifying things and learned from experience-- and nothing horrifying was happening to me externally, so damn. It can't be that bad.
And it wasn't.
Do I have a diagnosis? Of course not. I need many, many more tests before that happens. What comes next is an ultrasound so...that's what I'm doing next. My dad was like, "What do you mean nothing's wrong?" so I had to explain to my father that my problems are deeply internal and not externally visible. "OH, got it." Yeah.
Did he give me pain meds? No. Jerk. He said he doesn't like treating until he knows what's wrong. Clearly he doesn't know that I like punching when people are being toolbags.
So, that was the deal for today. Hope yours was as interesting as mine.
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