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Tuesday, August 28, 2007 

DPA goes to the vagina doctor.

Today at the doctor, I had to have a certain test done. I was supposed to get a phone call at work with the results this afternoon. It wasn't the kind of test that tells you if you've got crotch rot. It was the kind that tells you if you're going to get fatter and bitchier than ever and then eventually squeeze out something that cries and depends on you for the rest of your natural life.

See, the peeing on a stick thing isn't very reliable for me because I've had them come back positive when they weren't. Yeah, I know. I'm effed up. Anyway, I didn't even go to the doctor for the purpose of having this test done, but he wanted to do a test because of some of my symptoms and to make sure I'm not knocked up before I start some medicine.

Last time I had to get a blood test, which was about two years ago, they called and left a message on my voicemail telling me it was negative. Today I kept waiting for them to call me at work (I have a phone in my room) and they didn't. Like I said, I wasn't really concerned about this before I went to the doctor, and I think the test is more a precaution than anything. I didn't sweat it, but I definitely wanted to know as soon as possible.

When I got home there was a message on my cell phone, which I left at home this morning. It said that my results were in and that I needed to call them back or come by before 5:00. I didn't get the message until 6:00, because I worked late. They apparently didn't call the school. I guess they figured I was gone after 3:00. Anyway, I tried calling back but they were gone. Now I have to spend the night wondering if them asking me to "call or come by" is an indication that the test results were positive.

I hate to admit it because the timing would suck a little, but I would be really excited if it were positive. Really, really excited. And happy. Thrilled, even. And ten seconds later, that would fade, and it would be replaced by utter fear and anxiety.

Whatever. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. The Husband, on the other hand...

Oh yeah. Sorry about the title. That was completely uncalled for.

Was that a Vagina monologue?

Doctors offices suck that way. Hey, it's only your life they're screwing around with - no need to be concerned about whether or not you get the message. What's a few more hours?

Will be waiting for more on your vagina..........

Now when you call their office they won't have a clue who you are or why they called you. I'm even guessing they will go with "we'll find out who called and why and have them call you back", only they won't call you back. Been there, done that, still trying to not beat them senseless!

What is this now, some kind of vagina blog? (Not that a lot of guys aren't totally cool with that...)

damnyank-- You're right. At least I'm not waiting for results on a scan for cancer. My mother had something scary on her lung and another on her vocal cord. They scanned to look, and then nobody would call her back with the results. Same basic thing happened to me when I first started trying to figure out what was causing the pain in my side a year or so ago. They don't care. It's just another chart in a stack to them.

Cheese chick, I see we've dealt with some of the same jackasses. You're right about what will happen, and I am already bracing for it.

Hamm, Is that what they call them these days? Vagina blogs? :)

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