It’s A Tumah

Tonight I will not get to leave work at five. I will get to go change into my normal clothes and then I will !
return back to my terminal and remain there until GOD. KNOWS. WHEN.

Why? you may ask. Because it’s that wonderful time of the year called Inventory. Which is something I don’t get paid for because they switched me over to salary and frankly, without O.T. I’m not feeling the "stay at work till 10pm" love.

Now, I do get to use a half hour of tomorrow towards the half hour longer “lunch” I used yesterday to go to the doctor. Which is kind of nice. And they do buy us dinner, so it could be worse. It would have been better if I’d been able to dig my Zune out of its elusive box in the closet… but no, it was not meant to be.

Back to the good ol’ doc!

Alright I hate doctor’s offices… or I did. I kid you not. This doctor is God’s gift to me for every other doctor I went to after my pediatrician! So, here’s why I hated doctors before:

• Getting appointments were like pulling teeth.
• Long wait in the lobby with 87 bazillion sickly people.
• Doctors who don’t seem to care at all about you, they just want you in the door and then back out – as long as you pay your bills of course
• Doctors who think that because you’re under 40 there is obviously nothing wrong with you. Ever.

 Reasons why this doctor is amazing.

• I called and found out I need to get an appointment to get an actual prescription for birth control as the doc only gave me samples… okay, that’s a really trivial appointment, they are going to try to squeeze me in after a month, right? Nope, I’m on the phone with them Wed night at about 5pm I have an appointment for 2 the next day.
• I got there 5 minutes before my appointment and settled in with my book, because let’s face it, this is going to take a while, I’ll probably have a half hour wait, minimum. I didn’t finish a page before the nurse calls my name. And, there were a total of 5 other people waiting. All of them elderly, but none of them seemed on death’s doorstep.
• This woman is a magician. I cannot tell you how, but she started off the conversation with “You wont need to get a pap unless you feel it’s necessary.” Which I didn’t, but before I knew it my feet were in the knit kitty-face covered stirrups. It was bizarre. But I didn’t feel like it was all a ploy to make me pay test fees. Even though I told her this was not my first rodeo, she talked me through the whole thing and didn’t once make me feel weird. Which was pretty awesome, considering my other experiences…
• You know what. She didn’t roll her eyes at me when I brought up something else, something completely unrelated to my lady bits. She litened to what was wrong and you know what… she wrote me up a referral to see a general surgeon on the spot.

Now, if you’re worried about the whole “general surgeon” thing, don’t be. I have a Lipoma in my forearm that is nothing to be worried about, but it’s downright irritating (read: it rubs on the corner of the desk as I type – which, as you know I do a lot of).

A lipoma for those of you who don’t know is just a benign tumor made up of fatty cells. Yes, that’s right, it is a tumor. But nothing to fret over. I swears. I’m only lying to you if the doc was lying to me. And by now she knows that if I don’t want to go get something done, I won’t, so I’d be willing to bet money that if I really NEEDED to get it removed, like pronto, she’d tell me.

You do not want to look at the pictures on Wikipedia of a forearm lipoma being removed unless you’re strong of stomach, in that case, you can see it here.

If you opened that link to look at that picture, you cannot get mad at me, I gave you fair warning. It even makes me squeamish. And I feel pretty secure in my ability to handle gross medical things.

There you go. It’s a tumah!