Precious Is Upset
So, off I go for my ultrasound appointment yesterday, innocently throwing some of Sting's Fields of Gold on the CD player in the car as I leave behind my nauseated son lying prostrate on the couch watching The Matrix , and Mr. Handsome, who was taking a handful of Advil and claiming to have a wicked headache as I walked out the door. My appointment was just for a regular ultrasound of my uterus, the womb from whence my children came, related to the perimenopausal symptoms I've been having for the past six months or so, namely having a period every two weeks. Yes, it's been awful. Sorry to all my male readers, but maybe it's time you realize and understand that we women go through absolute hell. Hell, I tell you. So, I find the place, and I think to myself that maybe I didn't make such a great choice in having the ultrasound done here since the office is located in the middle of an industrial area, smack dab in-between a construction company, and Al's Diner (op...