Thursday Thursday

Well, I've been blogging for a couple of weeks about how badly Thursdays have been treating me. First my sister in the hospital, same day having coffee with ex girlfriend, then running into estranged family member I hadn't seen in years. . .
Two Thursdays later, my father is in the hospital with an irregular heartbeat. The doctors wanted to stop his heart and restart it with the defibs. . . the part they didn't tell him about that particularly crazy sounding idea, according to our family doc- since this happened in emerg- was that he could die. That's right you morons, reboot my father. Anyway he's okay now. Recovering physically, I don't know about emotionally but we'll see. He's even back at work. Then another Thursday goes by. . . and nothing . . . so that's a good sign right? Well, there's a positive way to look at Thursday. . . and this guy's found it!

I guess if you count my testicular ultrasound today. . . no, that's Friday. No results yet btw, just 'yup still there', the cist is. 'Well, what about my huge left nut you fucking quacks!?' Can I get some service around here? And not with a smile, not when I'm talking about possibly having to have someone cut open my scrotum and take out one of my nuts. . . um. . . judging by how dizzy I just got--this conversation is over.

I once, many years ago, stayed over at a friends' house who was in medical school. She and two other women lived together, all studying to be doctors, and to my knowledge, all are now. Anyway, one day they had me over and the three of them were laughing like a set of witches around a cauldron, and asked if they could cut open my scrotum to prove that the length of cabling in there is more than 3 miles. I'm not kidding. That's like 4,800 metres of Vas Deferens. . . okay I don't think the Vas covers all that territory, but combined with some of the other cables-yes. . . it was a very unpleasant visit to the doctor dorm. Well, at least until they brought out the tequila and panties!