I went to Spout's to get some cracked wheat sourdough, granola, and fruit, and I did. But on the way home I stopped at QT and got my half Coke-half Diet Coke drink over crushed ice, and they had Hostess Chocolate Pudding Pies. Those little pies are so bad for anyone but the thick creamy chocolate goo and the flaky pie crust with a thin layer of frosting taste so very good with a hot cup of coffee while reading the Sunday New York Times. BUT I was good in the fact I only bought one...and they had four or five on display...
Once though when I ate one, I found out how many people don't know about their decedent goodness.
I was having what some would call "female troubles" and because I am an idiot, I tried a new insurance that year so I couldn't go to my OB/GYN without paying a fortune. I kept telling my regular doctor something was wrong, because I bled so much I felt like I would faint each and every time I got up to do something. He kept treating me without ever doing an exam. I wasn't happy. Not that I let it stop me from going to work, school board, or class. I just made sure when I rose from a sitting position there was something to grab onto. This went on from October through the end of the calendar year when I switched back to my regular insurance. I made an appointment that day with my OB/GYN. He took a look as they do, and had some blood work done. The next morning I had a chocolate pudding pie for breakfast, and at 10:00 when he called me the first thing he asked me was if I had eaten that day. I told him and had to explain what it was. Then he told me to meet him at the surgery ccenter across the street from Good Sam hospital at one. He needed to do some surgury to correct my problem. When I arrived there, they asked me about what I'd eaten that day, again I had to explain what a chocolate pudding pie was made of and who would make such a thing. As I made my way from the waiting room to the gown room, and into the room where you wait for the drugs to take affect, I heard the techs talking about the chocolate pudding pie and wondering what it was. At least, I thought, I had something to laugh about while I waited to have my insides sliced, diced, and scraped out. Later my doctor told me if I had lost anymore blood, he would have had to give me a transfusion. Thank God for open season... BUT now everytime I eat a chocolate pudding pie....
Blogging is an interesting thing. I've started several and often end up neglecting them. I always get hung up on 'No one's reading this anyway,' thought process. But you got me thinking, with your fearless example, is is worse to say something and have it not be heard, or not say anything at all. I think the greater of the two tragedies has to be not saying anything at all. You never cease to amaze me with your strength, wit, intelligence, and the list goes on.
ReplyDeleteYou're amazing, and I cannot wait to see what you have to say in the future on your lovely blog. Love the title, by the way!
The comment up there, was supposed to be on the first entry. I'm apparently, not very computer savvy this morning!
ReplyDeleteAnyhow, here is comment number two:
I had no idea you had been through so much turmoil, and it amazes me, again how strong you are. That incident sounds like it could be rather terrifying, and yet, you've woven it into a beautiful and clever monologue of sorts. Keep posting, you inspire me.