Hello all,
I've been running around all day working. Never have I been happy to say that. Grateful maybe, just because having job is life (literally), but not exactly like thrilled to be doing it. I drove out to the hospital twice today and had a stupid smile stretched across my chubby cheeks the whole time whilst I rapped all three verses of Truffle Butter with precision. Three top accomplishments to date are: graduating from FSU, landing a job at the most prestigious hospital in the state of Florida, and being able to rap the hell out of Truffle Butter. I even have different voices for Drake, Wayne, and Nicki. Between that and some old school Dashboard Confessional, I was a cheerful clam.
As most of you know, I am working as a "standardized patient," at a hospital. It is theatre and medicine combined aka my fucking dream come true! Most days, like this morning, I am playing a patient with something or another going on. Sometimes is like something actually wrong with me, other times it's a interactive type scenario where medical professionals have to learn how to deal with certain types of patients and still do their job effectively. This morning, I was an overly chatty, interruptive patient annoying the absolute hell out of two nurses trying to give report to each other as the shift change occurs. I had to do it three times, each time getting progressively more talkative. First is just kind of a few questions pertaining to my health/condition, the second was interrupt their conversation with several questions about my condition, the third is just say whatever about whatever while they are doing their best to ignore the shit out of me without making me feel ignored but also maintaining composure enough to still do what they need to do. This is easy for me, I am already overly chatty and annoying, so there really is no "acting" involved. This morning's run through for the third round involved me interrupting with Game of Thrones memes, tasty recipes (that I was reminded I shouldn't eat while on my cardiac diet), pictures of my Washington trip, and laughing obnoxiously loud at anything and everything. My favorite was when they were talking about medicine to make me poop, and I was just like, "Yeah, is there anything we can do about that because I am literally in there every hour crapping my brains out, and wooow is it bad." I don't know why I thought to do that, but I did and it was golden. I had my ear piece in with my boss feeding me medical information that I might not have had and she was cracking up. Bless those nurses, I know they put up with this shit and worse all day every day.
I mentioned I went twice today, morning was chatty, interruptive patient, and for the afternoon I was an ultrasound model. It is probably the only thing I will ever "model" for since I am not tall and skinny, so I eat it up. I may not have a tiny waist anymore, but dammit if my cardiac windows aren't so great that it's sexy! I basically got paid to lay in bed and let four handsome doctors give me an in depth check up on my internal organs, which I am happy to report all appear to look how they should. I got to see my heart, lungs, kidney, liver and spleen. Nothing gives you an ego quite like a hot as fuck doctor telling you how amazing your peristernal cardiac view is while rubbing your side boob with an ultrasound wand covered in warmed ultrasound jelly. It's the shit, you guys!
But, as amazing as this sounds, this is not how it was supposed to go today, oooooh no. So, I got this assignment about a week ago and was told it would be abdominal ultrasound and DVT which involves scanning the inside of my thigh like 2 friggin centimeters away from my vag. Like the Usher song, I was gonna have to pull the panties to the side. This is no problem as I am not a modest girl and they do everything in their power to make you feel comfortable and secure with leaving clothes on and draping. It is all scholarly and shit, and pays better than stripping, so of course I agreed. So, being the nice person I am, I decide I was going to make sure I was cleaned up so I didn't scare these nice doctors with the forbidden forest I had been growing in my pants.This stems from more than just laziness, I assure you. Until last week, we didn't have hot water at the condo because out heating element was apparently bad (and it was, when the guy pulled it out it looked like ET's finger after finger banging a vat of acid). Showers were quick because the water temp was like Elsa letting it all go. So, shaving has kind of been null and void around here. This was fine, because I have been wanting to go back to waxing anyways and in order to do that, you have to let things get a little "Where the Wild Things are." Well, I went way past "Where the Wild Things are," straight to "Fern Gully," and it was time something be done about it.
I went and ate wings with my friends last night, and conveniently the waxing place is right up the road. So, smelling like buffalo sauce and not exactly prepared, I walked in and essentially begged for an appointment. I had been emboldened by a Blue Moon and Franks Redhot hot sauce, and it was now or the razor later. I really wanted to do this, because I actually like it, but past memories made me start to sweat. It is not bad, I know this, but since it had been so long, I panicked as my mind falsely created child birth like pains in my imagination. This is for the doctors, I told myself as I awkwardly wiggled my sweaty ass down to the end of the chair and let the poor victim assigned my my case do her thing. It was done, beautiful, and I was fully satisfied. Well, halfway, until I pulled through Starbucks for a venti skinny iced caramel machiatto with extra caramel just to set something cold on my then on fire crotch. Then, I was totally satisfied. I got home, feeling really accomplished and proud of myself for thinking of the workplace happiness of others.
Today arrives. I get to my little slice of workplace heaven and find out that my obviouslynevergonnahappenofficecrush is going to be doing my ultrasounds today. Good, I am glad I made the sacrifice I made since I have to see him all the time. I am sure he has seen far fucking worse than some mildly out of control pubic hair, but still, I was internally beaming because I am sure he would unconsciously appreciate it. Then he says the worst thing he could have ever said. "We are going to do cardiac and lung views today." Oh fucking kay. All of that torture for nothing! Fuck my boyfriend at home, he's used to my savagery, but I took time and went above and below to prepare for this, for you so you didn't have to deal with that! That's not the worst/ funniest part. In order to do these types of ultrasounds, we usually wear bikini tops to allow access to under and side boob without exposing too much skin. Sports bras and regular bras have thick bands that are not as easily moved. Guess what I was wearing today. Yep, that's right, a fucking sports bra with the thickest band possible. Okay. Not panicking. I mention to my boss and she's all like, "No problem, I gotchu girl." **Boss hands me an extra small bikini top** **Panicking**
I put on this bikini top and it is literally nipple pasties on me. Two Cheezits on a string would have covered more. I look like Staci fucking Keebler from WWF back in the day except I don't have her rocking hot bod. Like I am still just amazed these boobs were restrained by that little contraption. Sweating starts, and god we don't need any of that while I am wearing a a top that looks like two Triscuits and dental floss might be more supportive. As I am attempting to get all the boob the top would allow into the top, I notice something else. Out of the corner of my eye, I see little black hairs popping up like carrots tops in the snow. I didn't shave my fucking armpits. Awesome.
I was fuming. I dipped half my body in wax last night while completely sober out of the goodness of my heart only for my guy to be like, "nevermind fam, we gone do something totally different." Last time I checked, heart and lungs were not part of your abdomen, nor are they located in the thigh area where you start "getting nervous" when you are playing "Are you Nervous?" So, I did what anyone would do. I walked into the faux Emergency department, where they were all waiting on me, trying to cover all I could possibly cover with my patient gown, and just openly apologized. I said, "Before you get in here, I just want you to know, I only prepared from here down (indicating my bellybutton down to my little cocktail weenie toes) because I thought we were doing this area. Any horrors you experience are on you for changing your mind. There's armpit hair and an amazing amount of underboob happening, so just beware."
As I expected, the response was, "I've seen worse. Trust me, I'm a doctor."
