Seriously. Sign in an upscale mall.

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Seen in the International terminal of the San Francisco airport

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Hospital Adventures

English: pink ribbon

English: pink ribbon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Being of a certain age, I had a mammogram 2 weeks ago.  It wasn’t my first, and unlikely to be my last.  (Just a side note – I’m lucky – I don’t find them to be painful or awful, just mildly annoying.)

The next day I received a call from the Women’s Center.  For the record, if they call you it’s likely to be bad news.  I always look forward to the horribly impersonal letter than comes in the mail instead.

Sure enough, there was “something” that the doctor wanted a closer look at.  So the next day I’m back at the Imaging center for another scan.  Then an ultrasound.  Then the doctor comes in – they want to take a biopsy, but I have to come back for it.  She was very kind and said she felt it was likely a benign calcification but just wanted to be sure.  No need to be in any rush to schedule the next appointment.

Yeah, right…I scheduled the appointment for early the next week.  It’s a crazy-busy time of year at work, but I’d rather get it done and over with.

So last Tuesday, back to the center I go.  It was a different doctor but the ultrasound tech promised he was great.  It all went fine – nothing fun, but not really painful either (except for numbing one spot and then starting the biopsy needle in another, whoops).  They guide the needle using the ultrasound.  Then they place a marker at the site so that if it needs to be removed the surgeon can find it precisely.  And if it’s benign then future mammograms will see it and know they can ignore that spot.  Brilliant, actually!

The doctor then told me they wanted to do another mammogram to make sure the marker was in the right spot.  Ummm…really?  He promised it would only be a “gentle” pressure this time.  Hey, I was still numb so I probably wouldn’t have felt much anyhow.

So I get up with my sexy “gown” open to the front, and head back to the mammogram rooms.  Just as I round the corner there’s a *POP* and all the lights go out.  After a (split) second, the emergency power kicks in.  Now to be clear – this is at a real Hospital – with emergency rooms, surgeries, patient beds, and maternity wards.  With no power.

It was actually kind of funny – the techs and doctor were very concerned – “What happened?”  “Should we send people home?” “What do we do?”  (I was a bit perplexed – shouldn’t a hospital have emergency procedures?)  Everyone was looking out the windows – all the hospital cooks seemed to be outside taking their breaks and looking at the power lines.  Apparently, rumor has it, a seagull had flown into a transformer and power was out for several blocks.  Eek.

I waited, and was offered water and juice while they dithered about what to do.  Someone gave me a heated blanket (that was the best part).  Finally they decided I should be sent home.  They’re a “non-critical” part of the hospital and likely wouldn’t get power back anytime soon.  The doctor said if they felt I needed to come back for them to view the marker they’d call me in.  (I thought “Yeah, fat chance – it’s either coming out, or you can check it the next time around!”)

But of course the parking garage still had power.  I here I was hoping they were just going to let everyone out for free.  Sigh.

Two days later, earlier than they said, the doctor called with the test results.  She started telling me it was a something-or-other tumor (at which point my heart started pounding) that was completely benign.  After I was able to take a breath, I said “Next time, I think you should start with the ‘benign’ part.”

I don’t think she got it.

Manly?

Color mark from Crayola "Red Violet"...

Crayola “Red Violet” crayon. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last weekend my BFF and I had a spa date for a relaxing girls’ day out in downtown Seattle. We parked in the shopping mall parking garage across from the spa.

After a wonderful relaxing afternoon (my toes are a pretty violet!), we headed back to the car. Somehow we ended up on the wrong floor of the garage. Hmm…no car. Figuring it out, we went back to the elevators and hit the “down” button.

The elevator door opened an a guy started to get out. He was decent-looking, a bit “macho” for my taste, in a thin tight v-neck t-shirt and trendy jeans. His two buddies said it was the wrong floor and pulled him back. We got in and I apologized for making them stop, but that we had gotten off on the wrong floor. He asked if, since he apparently wasn’t sure which floor he was on either, if we had seen his car.

Without missing a beat I replied “No, sorry, I didn’t see a pink Prius.”

All he could do was goggle and mutter “pink Prius?” over and over while his buddies howled.

(We saw them later as we came out of the garage – in a huge Suburban with music thumping. Yeah…that just figures…)

Quick Remodeling Advice

Sonicare

Sonicare (Photo credit: thefost)

Ladies, just a quick bit of advice if you happen to be remodeling a bathroom.

IF you decide to follow the current trend of raising the sink and counter height to 36″, and IF you’re of a certain age (and aren’t as…umm…perky…as you used to be), then please – don’t brush your teeth topless.

Trust me – when you bend over to spit out toothpaste – that counter is COLD.

Everyone has them…

…you know…stories, yarns, tales…the kind you tell at cocktail parties or business dinners.  They’re funny, silly, or slightly strange – told to entertain rather than enlighten.

I decided to share some of mine here.  I hope to post one a week, though occasionally it may be more…or less.  I hope you’ll be entertained by my yarns!

  • Just me

    Telling stories about my life.

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