Waterworks

Two rambunctious little pugs woke me up this morning.
It's hard to stay grumpy when
they nearly wiggle themselves inside out
because I am home.
In a few hours I'm off on a road trip to see Fr. Charlie.
Who knows how I'll be when I get there
but right now I feel like I'm going to talk for 2 hours straight
without nary taking a breath.
Well, except that breathing is necessary.

Yesterday I sat in a waiting room
and listened to a young girl talk just like that.
Loudly.
I heard all about so and so and their boyfriend
and whether the baby is his or not.
Wow, she talked loud.
Like the young person beside her was deaf.
I watched her friend's body language
and it seemed to say please speak quieter.
I sat and judged the young girl for her verbal diarrhea
until I realized that most of us
probably have similar conversations going on all the time
except they happen in our head not in a public arena.
So there really is no difference between us.

I was sitting there waiting for a pelvic ultrasound.
One where the prep is having to drink a litre of water
and then hold your pee for an ungodly amount of time.
I went to the reception desk upon arrival
and told them this was cruel and unusual punishment.
They asked me to repeat myself.
I did.
In a whisper.

When I was called (they call first names only)
I walked very quickly to the room.
I got up on the table
(I know this is all too much information
but aren't you glad you aren't in a public waiting room
hearing me speak this rather loudly in your ear?
Wait. A blog is sorta like a public waiting room.)

Anyway I got up on the table
only to hear her say after a few seconds
that I needed to go and pee a little bit.
My bladder was too full.
I would've laughed except that would have caused me
to pee right there on her table.
I told her peeing a little bit wasn't going to happen.
Now, I envy all those folks who can stop peeing at will.
It isn't and never has been me.
She told me people did it all the time.
I told her not in my lifetime.
She sighed and did the ultrasound.
Then she let me go pee and did another kind of ultrasound.
Blessed relief.

When all was said and done I looked at the screen
before I left the room
(as if I can miraculously read an ultrasound picture, duh)
only to see that it wasn't even my name on the screen.
My first thought was that there was no way
I was going to repeat the torture.

So I went out and told her
that um, right first name, wrong everything else.
Her face registered an "oh shit" moment.
She assured me she could fix it but it would take a while.
Turns out there were two of us in the waiting room
with the same first name.
And when they'd called it
I saw this other person out of the corner of my eye
start to get up out of their chair
but I beat them to it.
I had to pee so bad I just wanted the test over with.
I never stopped to think it wasn't my turn.

And since I don't think there is any delicate way
to finish this rather indelicate post
I will just stop right here
and wish you a good day.