I was, of course, nervous, because I am nothing if not certain that I will be pronounced dead on arrival as soon as I come into contact with a general practitioner, a dentist, or an optometrist, so I kept myself busy while I waited for the doctor by taking pictures of myself:
because nothing says dedication to social media like fully documenting your life from an exam room table. I think I may have flirted with Queen of Spain about my impending pap smear.
It turns out that my chest X-ray came back clear — HOORAY! — and my bloodwork came back fabulous — AMAZING! — and my breasts are magnificent — OF COURSE THEY ARE!
Okay, so Dr. N didn't tell me that my breasts were magnificent, but they are, and we both know it, so I thought it was fairly safe to throw that in there.
I have to go for a second set of blood tests yet, because the phlebotomy people missed out on checking for my iron and B12 levels, but neither of those things are very likely to result in my sudden death, so I am feeling pretty good.
Thank you all for your messages of love. Seriously. There is no reason on earth for my cholesterol to be anything but atrocious, so I hold you all personally responsible for my shockingly healthy blood pressure and cholesterol levels. You should hire yourselves out as remote healers or something.
And then something something something, something something. And something else.
I had thoughts that were supposed to go there where all those somethings are, but they ran away on me, and now I have to go shower and get ready to sell shoes, so I have no time to chase them. As per usual, though, I will no doubt have some terrific ideas while I'm shampooing my hair, which ideas will also run away, because my thoughts obviously hate fame and riches. Jerks.