Friday, June 8, 2012

She Looks Like Me


Before handing today's post over to Fishducky, I just wanted to tell you that the Hippie's ultrasound results came back completely normal. The same section of her tummy is hurting again, but we still don't have answers. They've put her on another dairy-free diet and plan on taking her off of gluten if this dairy thing doesn't work. Wish us luck.

On a happy note, Janie (the rockstar) wrote a wonderful review for "The Sword of Senack." Please go HERE to read that. Thank you, Janie. Your encouragement, support and kindness means so very much.

Now, the reason you're visiting on this lovely Fishducky Friday--take it away, Fran!

SHE LOOKS LIKE ME!

Back in the days when doctors made house calls (I’ve told you before to ask your grandmother what that means!) I had the flu or some other deadly disease, so I called my family doctor, who is also a friend. I was in bed, in some nice warm pajamas, when he arrived. He examined me & told me I needed a shot. I asked him where, so I would know if I should roll up a pajama sleeve or lower the bottoms—I really didn’t care which. He said, “I could give it to you in your arm, but it’s better in the butt. Tell you what, I’ll give it to you in the butt but I won’t look!” I told him to look—just not to remember!

I took my kids to the pediatrician for a checkup. (Where else was I going to take them—a singles bar?) The nurse was laughing & I asked her what was so funny. She said she had just been talking to another patient—a 5 year old boy who had recently gotten over chicken pox. She had asked him how he had caught it. He told her, “I dunno. I must’ve got hold of a bad chicken!”

My brother-in-law was a veterinarian. He never got angry with his patients, but their owners were a different story. He couldn’t show his anger in the office—very bad for business. He loved gardening. One of the reasons was because it gave him a place to safely (& privately) vent his feelings. He would take his clippers & cut the heads off weeds, saying as he went, “That’s for you, Mr. Smith!” or “You’re an idiot, Mrs. Jones!” Everyone was happy & his garden was beautiful!

My younger sister-in-law & I each have three kids. Hers are all about three months older than ours. I used to be worried when she called me—I was afraid she’d tell me she was pregnant again & I didn’t want any more kids. We saw the same OB so we often went in for our appointments together. We’d get weighed in & examined & then we’d go out for ice cream. We’d have plenty of time to diet before our next visit. C’mon—you NEVER did that?

Our daughter was my parents’ first grandchild. We called them around 1:00am & they met us at the hospital along with Bud’s folks. She was born at 4:10am & I guess everyone was pretty tired, excited & punchy by that time. My obstetrician, Dr. Weinberg, was a very large, stern-looking (but funny) man who spoke with a thick German accent. He came into the waiting room & announced that I had had a beautiful baby girl. My mom excitedly asked him who the baby looked like. He thought for a minute, said, “She looks like ME!” & turned & left the room.

I had very easy &, apparently, VERY quick deliveries. When our second son was born, I had asked for something to ease the pain & promptly fell blissfully asleep. A nurse, who had been in the delivery room, later came into my room laughing. She said Dr. Weinberg asked her if she had ever seen one of my babies being born. She told him no. She said he warned her to stand back & said, “SWOOSH!!” I wonder if she’s the one who designed the Nike logo. I hope you realize—I stayed on a theme this time. And it wasn’t easy!

Take care of yourselves----fishducky