A Quickie of the Boring Variety

Had my EGD today, and the results were inconclusive. They now believe I am having esophageal spasms, and either way it means that as an otherwise healthy 24.11-year-old, I now have to eat like a geriatric patient. Boooo.

Funny things happen under sedation: Apparently, I told a handsome "murse" (male nurse) that I wanted to have his 3rd baby (but only if it was a boy) and that he should go order me a pizza. I remember NONE OF THIS, but my husband walked into the room at the end of the conversation and I looked at the hot murse and stated "Your not my husband!". Then Michael walked over to hold my hand and him taking my hand is the very first thing I remember after waking up. Lord KNOWS what else I told that really hot nurse man. 

On the way out, he laughed at my husband and said "Good to see she found the right one. I bet you are going to go get a pizza now..."

*EMBARRASSING!*

I'm going to have a  super fun BLOGGERVERSARY coming up early this week! And you are ALL INVITED TO PARTAKE IN MY FESTIVITIES! 

Woot. Woot.

Now, off to enjoy the feely good meds and tornado warnings.

A Party In My Tummy

UGH.

I went in today for a re-enameling of 3 teeth, and walked out with a numb face. Now, I feel something similar to being donkey punched in the face. 

You see, I LOVE pain though. So tomorrow, Michael and I (whilst the Wild Thing is at PreK) are going to a "Parental Screening" at a local total waste of money Very Expensive Private Schooling Institution for Mediocre Learning. We're thrilled, really. AND! We get to be "evaluated" during Chase's naptime. Aren't we a special kind of beautiful crazy? Shucks... *blush*

I'm sure to blog more about the screening post-screening... 

But HECK Amanda, why stop the fun there???

Let's schedule a 9 AM EGD, in which I get an IV (WITH NEEDLES), and some really nice doctor-type-man to shove a camera-on-a-tube down my throat, into my esophagus and upper tummy and then biopsy my esophageal lesions. Oh yes... I really know how to throw a party. If you wear the right shoes, you're totally invited.

But why stop with 6 shots, 3 new enamels, 1 filling, an overpaid snobby-two-shoes checking to see whether me and the Mr. are "of quality", AN IV, and 1 camera in my tummy (sorry, no 5 golden rings or french hens)??

AFTER THAT I GET MY IUD!

That's if my body cooperates.

Needless to say, I'll be more than happy to blog it up about the paid for Judging of Ye Ole Parental Skills and all the pieces of my esophagus they remove, but don't expect me to like it. By that point, I'll be all partied out.