The Mammarazzi

At the six month check-up mark, I should be having a follow-up mammogram.  But, because The Dutchman is watching something on my left side, we're getting out the high res gear right from the start.

I'm getting way better at these MRI thingies.  Jockette was my date for a late evening appointment in the digital imaging lab.  With the schedule running behind, we had lots of time to play Angry Birds, laugh at the ignominious hospital fashions (ain't nothin' sexier than two hospital gowns, knee socks and street shoes -- no matter the gender!), and catch me up on office gossip, since I'm on vacay, this week.

Of course, that also meant that the 2mg of Ativan I took on time was past its sell-by date when they finally called me into the cavern of despair.  So, I popped the additional milligram I saved from last time(!) and trotted happily off to spend a half-hour face down stuffed half-naked inside a toilet roll.

I'd forgotten how loud the machinery is.  I'd forgotten what it feels like to lie completely still for 30 minutes.  I'd forgotten how great it feels to get it right the first time.

But, I haven't forgotten The Dutchman's hotness index.  Ten days 'til I get my next fix... oh, and the results of the MRI.