Yes, it IS Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday, but so many of you have written in and said, "I'd really like to hear more about the intricacies of June's girl parts."
Okay. No one has ever written that, ever. In four years of me blogging. Still, I'm going to tell you all about my uterus and hey! Congratulations! Welcome. Welcome to my sugar walls.
As you know, since I can't shut up about it, I have the iron-poor blood, and I'd link to previous posts, but just look at ANY post from the last two weeks and whoot, there it is. Anyway, I have been having...girly trouble (it's shark week ALL THE TIME) (if you catch my chum) along with my lack of iron. This resulted in me having to go to the doctor and get an ultrasound yesterday, which involves a very long personal wand paying a housecall to parts of me no one should really be visiting without at least slow dancing with me to Open Arms by Journey.
But perhaps I am revealing too much of June. The High School Trampy Years.
At any rate, they found a giant visitor up there in my funnel cake, as it were, and perhaps it is Steve Perry, but the even more exciting news is now they want to do an MRI to get a closer look and possibly rip out my entire conjunction junction.
It is astonishing how many euphemisms I have been able to come up with for my reproductive area today.
The doctor assures me that what they found is likely nothing, you know, deadly, but have you all met me? I am seeing the white light and getting my affairs in order and floating above my body and having a seance for myself and putting pennies on my own eyes and so forth. All this because I probably accidentally left an SOS pad up there when I was cleaning.
So what I'm saying to you is, really? REALLY? Do I NEED this right now? I already have no iron and a husband with one foot out the door and a cranky fat cat with murder on his mind and no job and this HAIRDO, so really? REALLY? I need Gladys Fibroid and the Polyps or whomever checking in to my Red Roof Inn?
Gladys Fibroid and the Polyps. That was ridiculous. It's not even anywhere close.
So I'll keep you abreast, as it were, of the goings on in the land down under.
And in an incredibly inappropriate transition, it's Lent, and many of you wrote in yesterday, while I was being probed, to tell me what you are giving up. I did not have time nor energy (see: iron-poor blood) to do the dry-erase board, but I will highlight some of your answers.
(Should I do a uterus giveaway if they really end up removing it?)
Anyway.
Linday said:
I've thought about giving up Chick-fil-a because I have a serious addiction to the Christian chicken. But that would mean giving up their new banana pudding milkshakes. That I can't do. No way, no how.
I did not know about banana pudding milkshakes. I have read that milkshakes can dissolve polyps like nobody's business. What? You haven't heard this?
Said Tiffaney:
Twelve years of Catholic school left only one thing to give up: giving up anything. Bah Lent bug.
I'm sorry, but "Bah Lent bug" slayed me.
Then Scraps corrected us about Lent being 40 days:
Oh, and it's not really 40 days...it's like 47 or something (they don't count the Sundays, doncha know, or Palm Friday).
Palm Friday! Dead. I mean, I'm already dead from the SOS pad up my nethers. But now I'm doubly dead.
Barb suggested an idea that a lot of readers might steal:
In addition to giving up sweets, I'm also going to try to do the "40 Bags in 40 Days" challenge. http://www.faithandfamilylive.com/blog/40_bags
Nithya said:
I've been raised to give up all luxuries for Lent. No cinema, pubs, meat or eating out. I tried really hard to fall off the wagon when I left home but I have a huge reserve of conditioned guilt about it so even if I eat out I'm unable to enjoy it. How lame is that?
And Laurie in TN added:
The church is focusing more on asking people to add something positive to their lives rather than giving up, but I guess it depends on what sacrifice means to you.
So there you go. Apparently I might be giving up my INNARDS this season, in case you were unable to understand the subtle nuances of what I was saying above.
As usual, thanks for participating in Pieces of Uterus Wednesday. What's left of me thanks you.
And whomever is out there with the June voodoo doll? Would you cut it OUT, please? Thanks.
P.S. I just got a call from the MRI place and my appointment is Friday. They also told me my portion is 900 ridiculous dollars. Hence the part where I put the PayPal widget back up, on the right there. No pressure! Seriously. Only if you can and want to help me and my mine shaft.
