Off I went to the doctor today.

Before Bear was born, I had an amazing doctor. He was the kind of doctor that other doctors raved about. And the day we found out we were pregnant was the day I found out that Dr. Amazing was retiring.

Since Bear was born, I have been Desperately Seeking Dr. Amazing, Jr. with no luck. This was my 7th first date with a new doctor. I've only gotten to a 2nd and 3rd appointment with 1 doctor in that time, and on the 4th meeting he told me he was leaving medicine.

A woman begins to take these things personally.

Meanwhile, I've met some bad doctors. Very bad doctors. I'm talking Cult Film Classic bad doctors.

But my blood pressure medication was running out, my boobs were swollen like freakish water balloons, and, well, other stuff.

So in I walked, to new doctor's office number 7.

I didn't strip, I didn't weigh in, I just said to the nurse -Just send the doctor in and then I'll decide if we're getting to 2nd base.

A few minutes later this gorgeous lady walks through the door. She looked at me and said Hello, I'm Dr. 7, and you have a great smile.

Oh, she had me at hello.

I laid out my issues, including my recent women's troubles. Boob-wise, I mean. And she walked me through it all and did the exam. I was in her office almost an hour and she didn't even check her watch. I think I'm in love.

Guys avert your eyes - but she even had a speculum warmer!

I still remember CD's first introduction to a speculum. Dr: "CD - this is the big shiny medeival device I am about to insert into your wife" CD: "Gah?"

Turns out, I'm just fine. The boob thing should, uh, deflate within a couple of weeks. In the meantime, all is good in the world. CD can enjoy his brief time as Dolly Parton's husband. And I can bask in the joy of finally being in a committed Dr/Patient relationship.

Ahhhh.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 12:14 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 Ahh...I don't get the option to stick with one doctor, so I feel your pain on that account. On the Dolly Parton issue, I feel your pain on that as well. But mine won't deflate.

Posted by: Elisabeth at January 25, 2005 01:15 PM (VmWDz)

2 I wish I had the option to only have giganamous boobs part time. But no, I lug these puppies around ALL the time.

Posted by: Michele at January 26, 2005 03:33 AM (jTs6K)

3 Well, I'm just glad that you found a doctor you like. I bet, though, that in 6 months she stops taking your insurance.

Posted by: RP at January 26, 2005 03:55 AM (LlPKh)

4 I'm gonna start a support group for the large breasted women of the world, I think I'll name it "large bossom buddies". Oh, and you're one lucky ducky if you found a woman Dr. like that. I've had everything from the Nazi lady, to Mr. DoesithurtwhenIscrapehere. {shivers}

Posted by: Liz at January 26, 2005 04:12 AM (GhfSh)

5 Ah, you've found the joy of a good ob/gyn. I've been spoiled and when I was sent to another one for a consult I was SHOCKED to learn that they don't all have speculum warmers. Quite the shock, really. Here's hoping this new relationship works out! (And that your boobs deflate - cause mine seem to be here to stay).

Posted by: Cheryl at January 26, 2005 04:14 AM (kIUSX)

6 I'm still averting. can I look yet?

Posted by: ben at January 26, 2005 05:40 AM (cMBPb)

7 Oh I don't want what you got. I'd be so over-burdened. Lordie. Get well soon

Posted by: Eyes for Lies at January 26, 2005 08:37 AM (QhI+Z)

8 Speculum warmer? Such a thing EXISTS??? I thought my doctor was amazing, but he doesn't have a warmer. I'm gonna have to ask him why the hell not! I have never heard of the boob swelling problem. I'd imagine it would freak a person right out. Me, I'd have to start shopping the internet for ginormous bras. A belly and ass like mine NEED boobs this big, just to keep me balanced. Like a Weeble.

Posted by: Tammy at January 26, 2005 10:46 AM (aFeo0)

9 when i call doctor's offices, i always ask if they're young. it is a prereq that she be yound and pretty. i like pretty people to look at my cooch.

Posted by: Sarcastic Journalist at January 29, 2005 03:25 PM (r5dgt)

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I'm just saying it now: this is a TMI post. Enter at your own risk. more...

Posted by: Elizabeth at 01:46 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 Check in hubby's sock drawer. The lamp you are looking for is brass and will be recently shined.

Posted by: Jim at January 24, 2005 10:37 PM (GCA5m)

2 My boobs have recently done the same thing. I've gone up a cup size in the last month. No explanation. Not pregnant. Very mysterious.

Posted by: Cheryl at January 25, 2005 02:18 AM (5zO3x)

3 Must be something in the water. Can y'all send some down to Atlanta?

Posted by: Jim at January 25, 2005 02:35 AM (tyQ8y)

4 welcome to my world. Grandma bras, and re-enforced straps. Unfortunately I've been stuck in my world since age 15. Victoria's Secret is having their annual sale right now! HURRY HURRY.

Posted by: Liz at January 25, 2005 03:19 AM (GhfSh)

5 Terrorist plot? Is this happening everywhere? (lunch date with my wife in three hours, I'll ask her too) Still laughing at Jim's answer (the lamp!)

Posted by: ben at January 25, 2005 03:40 AM (cMBPb)

6 You know, I have had that same problem. Mine started this past summer. Although with various of the womanly problems, I was sent in for an ultrasound. (they thought I had an ulcer or something) The Ultrasound doc came in there while the tech was still doing her thing, he says: "You know your pregnant?" I looked at him like had lost his damn mind. then said, "You know, in te history of all medically related jokes that one's not even funny. You know how far along I would have to be to be pregnant?" It had been nearly 9 months since I had even had sex. Turns out he had the wrong patient. YEah No duh! What's um DR. 7's schedule like?

Posted by: Sharroll at January 27, 2005 02:32 AM (2Fosg)

7 hey i have the swollen boob thing too---seems it's from an anxiety med--effexor, was on it for 4 months till my boobs grew---they are almost firm now, wow, mine were already a ddd, this is ridiculous

Posted by: erin at January 27, 2005 07:31 AM (4hPH0)

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I was born under a rock.

I have no other explanation for how I ended up, at nineteen years old, living on my own without any of the most basic skills.

My first month in that first apartment, I washed my car with undiluted Spic and Span. Just poured the granules onto the car one sunny day, sprayed the hose and went to town.

The cop who pulled me over the next week had to ask.

Miss, what did you DO to your car?

I told him. I said I washed it with Spic and Span and now it was fugly and I didn't know why.

To this day I think he gave me that speeding ticket partly on account of my being so stupid.

Other people, they are a story of great romance or high mystery in their walk through life. They are self-help relevations. They marvel at the world as though it was a travel book full of big glossy pictures.

Me?

Yeah, I'm the 'How-To' experience. White paper, black ink, and some 3D sketches.

My very competant parents tried, Heaven help them. You clean the gutters every fall. You break an egg like this. You write thank-you notes immediately.

But somehow, none of it stuck to my brain. The words went in, bounced around, and then fell out my ears while I slept.

So there I was, on my own. And I had no idea how to check the oil in the car, how to balance my checkbook or create a budget, had no clue from pilot lights in the stove and couldn't properly shave my legs.

A day didn't go by that I wasn't either bleeding, broke, hungry or scrambling to find a ride to work.

This went on and on. Until I realized, Hey this is life.

As soon as I learn one thing, shit if there isn't always going to be another to learn right behind it. And knowing me, the hard way.

I was thinking about that today when I got a call from one of the junior folks.

My vendor had a meeting with my customer. Without me. She confessed. What do I do?

This was bad.

As a project manager, you are the Contractor on the job site. You represent all the work and all the vendors to your customer seemlessly. If the Roofing guy talks to your customer and tries to cut you out, that is a violation of the entire process. It's also a breach of contract.

And Junior was counting on me to tell her how to deal with it.

So I did. I walked her through it.

How do you know how to deal with this? She asked me.

I could have said, it's standard Project Manager process. Which it is, but of course I didn't learn it that way.

I learned because I once took a flamethrower to a vendor over a 50 million dollar contract. And once I had pretty much burned down the house, the yard, the block, the car, the vendor, and oh - myself.... along came a guy, probably dressed in black.

He leaned over my steaming self and said, calmly, You know Maverick, we got lawyers for this.

Junior laughed. They say there isn't much you don't know how to do.

I thought about the Engine light on mini-van, my "Universal" remote control, the so-called instructions to my son's Lego Pirate Ship, the dozens of burnt Christmas cookies I threw away this year, my unused wireless laptop, my unsubmitted travel expenses, and the 72 inches of paper that represents my retirement plan.

They, I told Junior firmly, would be wrong.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 11:29 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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That which was to be proved...

*ahem*

Is this thing on? Testing... testing... 1. 2. 3.

OK, for the record. ... more...

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:17 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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