Well, I lived to tell you about my day.
I got my hair did. And I actually liked the way she styled it. Normally, I do not. That is because on most days, I am just going to school or going home and the bouffant look doesn’t really coordinate. And on other days, the Farrah Fawcett look just doesn’t look right on me. And on any other day, I need to be able to see so the hair hanging down right in front of my eyes doesn’t work. But today — no need to put it in a ponytail immediately after. It’s only been about eight years, but we’re finally getting somewhere (I love the way she does color, though!).
Next, I turned in my contract. I am thankful to have a contract. I am sorry for anyone who is in danger or didn’t get one or can’t get one. Especially because I know that if that is you, then you think I am a big whiny (weeny) head for complaining about a possible move to fifth grade. Because I know you’d take fifth in a heartbeat to have your own classroom. That was me, too. When I was being interviewed for my first teaching position, the principal asked me if I’d rather have first or fourth grade. I said, “Either!” (I wanted to look flexible. Eager. Like a team player. Confident.) Thank goodness he put me in first.
Then I ran through Del Taco because I was hungry. It happens. I love their chicken soft tacos. I don’t know what that white sauce is, and I don’t want to know, but I love it.
After that, I drove to a far away land for my ultrasound.
The place was NICE.
Sad, though. Women with no hair. 🙁
Nice doctors. They were hugging patients and all that. I thought I might have been in the wrong place. Most doctor places I go to ignore you. Ask for money. Cancel your appointment. You know, your average experience.
I had to go topless. Unfortunately, no tips today.
The tech did the ultrasound. We made small talk while we both pretended I wasn’t topless. And then she wrote on me in sharpie. SHARPIE. On my boob. Um, I wonder how long that’s going to be there? And couldn’t she have made it more attractive? And maybe decorated the left one, too, so it matched? And so it didn’t feel left out?
The tech left me there to go show the radiologist. Then she came back and did the exam again.
I started singing “Jesus Loves Me” which is my go-to song in times of stress or nervousness. I also did a little rendition of “Rise and Shine and Give God the Glory, Glory.”
The tech left again to go show the radiologist.
When she returned, she said the radiologist wanted to do her own exam. She said not to be scared — they are just very thorough.
“Jesus Loves Me” wasn’t cutting it anymore.
I started doing a little
begging praying and repeating memory verses that I know.
The radiologist came in and did the exam for the third time. Seriously, a dollar bill would not have been out of the question.
I have three cysts. That’s all! They’re nothing. I don’t have to come back and do another peep show for a year.
PHEW. God is good. Thank you for all of your prayers! Seriously, what would I do without you all? What did I used to do? (I think I used to pace around in a padded room with a straight jacket on.)
And, by the way, I’m pretty sure my cardiologist will write me off of jury duty. He has done it twice before. He thinks it’s too much stress for me. I agree. I wish there was a form for him to sign that says report cards are too stressful for me. Or paying the bills. Or waking up early. Or eating my vegetables.
You’re all caught up. Except for the business at school. There are lots of rumors and I’m pretty sure I’m safe . . . but I will wait until it’s official to give you the low down.
Thanks again! I want to go check out your blogs now.
How long do you think sharpie will last?????