Did you ever see that one time Joe Namath was drunk on TV and that reporter was trying to interview him and she was pretty and all, so Joe Namath kept leaning into her space and said, “I just want to kiss you” and I think he got in trouble but really how much trouble did he get into because athletes can do anything including jumping out at their ex-wives in the dark and turning their necks into Pez dispensers, so.
Did you see that, ever? About Joe Namath?
Well, it happened, trust me, and that’s how I feel every time Milhous is running around here being cute. Because, unlike the rest of us up in this bitch, Milhous is in his prime, and he’s forever batting at the water as it comes out of the pipe, or chasing a bottle top like it’s interesting, and I’m just so charmed by his beige self that I find myself lurching after him saying, “Come here. I just want to kiss you.”
And like the pretty woman interviewing Joe Namath, the answer is no.
Anyway, I got my answer from my doctor and am now officially annoyed with doctor. Because remember how I went there for an ovarian cyst, and she was all, “That big one is fine, but there’s a new little one that’s probably okay but I want to test your blood for cancer.”
Remember how she said that and scared the shit right out of me?
So I got a blood test (it’s called a CA-125) and it came back fine. I scored a 5. If you score anything above a 38, you’re in big trouble, mister. But I didn’t. They exclaimed over how low my score was. So thanks for scaring me.
Then she said, Oh and in that ultrasound to check out your ovaries, we saw a little fluid, just a trace, up there in your uterus. We want to biopsy it for cancer.
And it scared the shit right out of me. Right the hell out of me the shit went, with a little shit bag and a little shit song about hitting the shit road.
So I had the enormously painful test that scared me, and then the doctor’s office, who when you call and get the recording talks about all that compassion for women, that compassion for women office did not call me with results. “It’ll be back in one day,” they said. Three days later I’d heard bupkis. Oh, take your time. I can think about lots of other things.
So finally yesterday I called because I was tired of hanging out on tenterhooks, and they were all, “She said to tell you we found mucus and blood, but no cancer.”
See. Has she MET me?
“Well, what does that mean?”
“So, you told me about finding mucus and blood but that’s fine?”
THEN WHY TELL ME. If it’s fine, why tell me? Why do I need to know that? Don’t tell me anything except, It all looks good, June. Give me that one rush of relief after three-plus months of fear, COULD you?
I feel like I was told that to say, see. We really did see fluid up in there. It was like, We were right.
I AM A SCARED PERSON. Stick to “things are good” or “things are bad.” Don’t muddy the waters. Don’t muck the fluid.
The good news is, I’m fine. Other than being riddled with fluids I don’t understand.
Meanwhile, I also called to follow up about Iris, who I’m sure I’ve mentioned hate hate hates taking medicine with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns. I think because she’s blind and has no clue why her formerly nice owner is now shoving something bitter into her gullet.
If you’ve never pilled a cat, imagine a very jumpy angry collection of 20 pointy razor blades six inches from your face being fussy while you have to GET IN THE THROAT OF IT.
All her tests look good except for the test for pancreatitis, which isn’t back yet. And of course that’s the one we want, because that sort of tells us, Oh, it’s just pancreatitis and not
So we wait. Iris finally ate last night and this morning, as she has been on the anti-nausea pills that I have shoved into her angry blind face several times now. She mostly wants to eat the other cats’ canned food, and at this point I say fine. Just eat something.
The other news is oh my god I slept like the dead last night. So hard, I slept. Good gravy. I was gonna throw caution to the wind and have a split of celebratory Prosecco after work, but something was up at the Ghetto Lion and there were lines out the door like we have here when it’s gonna snow and I got annoyed and left and had water instead. Wooo! Celebrate good times, come on!
I’d probably just have a migraine today anyway had I had Prosecco, so.
That sums me up, and I plan to celebrate this weekend. What should I do? Keep in mind I just paid $560 for a vet bill for Iris, a bill I want to pay off immediately because I charged it and want it off my card the way you want to get a taffy wrapper off your hands. So think of something low cost.
Thanks for being so kind and supportive while Iris and I go through this stupid time in our lives. I still have to have those ovarian cysts removed and if that doctor says anything to alarm me I will throw them at her like we’re in a water balloon fight.