Johnny my love

I've gotten one on my neck, one on my hip, three on my lower back, and today I got one on my chest. Nope, those aren't tattoos, those are the x-rays I have gotten over the past few months. Two were just this week. By the time I was crawling into my third johnny of the week earlier today, I couldn't help but hum that ol' Liz Fair tune, "Dance of the Seven Veils"
Johhny my love, get out of the business
It makes me wanna rough you up so badly
Makes me wanna roll you up in plastic
Toss you up and pump you full of lead

This was moments after a phone conversation with my PCP where she was instructing me to go for the chest x-ray and telling me it's time to get "aggressive". I adore her, but part of me wanted to say "huh huh, when did that become apparent?" I am thinking of the mounting medical bills from all of the CT scans, lumbar puncture, blood tests, EMG, nerve conduction and x-rays. Not to mention the several doctors and physical therapy, which I failed. Not only am I getting weary of the radiology dept at CMMC and inconclusive tests, but dammit I HATE johnny's!

Earlier this week I donned one to get a cortisone shot in my neck, where I might have arthritis. I am waiting patiently for that to work so that I can go next week to do it all again. I am also waiting for the radiology dept to tell me when I can pay them another visit for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound of my heart. The mammogram is on the advice of my neurologist deciding that although he doesn't think I have breast cancer, he can't figure out what might me causing my problems so maybe I have breast cancer, of course, not that he thinks so, but it could explain those things. (that was almost a direct quote, without the hands up in the air, baffled look attached) It's almost become an office joke that I spend all my lunches at the doctor's or radiology dept. Sometimes I do both. I am not concerned so much about the breast cancer, since I have almost had MS, arthritis, fibromayalgia, swollen lymph nodes and probably a few other things I've forgotten. I definitely have pinched nerves and can't walk without limping, but I don't know why. I've come to the conclusion that it's better not to worry until I get something worth worrying about.

The highlight of my adventures to the x-ray room was definitely today. Usually I get to keep my bra on under my johnny, but not today. No, I got to bare all under that bare thread tablecloth with strings I had wrapped around me. Not only did I get to sport that God awful contraption in an upright position, but the x-ray was pointing right at the spot that would prove to the world that my anatomy is not quite as perky as it used to be. The part that almost did me in (sometimes I swear I'm going to laugh myself to death) was when I got to sit in a chair a few feet away from some workmen doing demolition on the x-ray room. Yes, I must have looked so regal there in my johnny, boobs on my lap staring awkwardly askance, pretending to have a great fascnination with the clock, strategically keeping my gaze away from the men at work. One thing I have learned, modesty flies out of the window when you have the "great mysterious illness".

But no matter what, I will still reign supreme as the Queen of the backyard hot tub!