I stopped wearing underwear about a year ago. With that cast on my leg and foot, it would have taken 2 hours to put on a thong, which I usually wear. When the cast finally came off and I was transferred to moon boot status, there was no way I could get a thong over that either as it was doubling as my coffee table. So, still no underwear.
But yesterday was my acupuncture appointment so I remembered that although men prefer to look at commando, they're usually boyfriends and hopefully not doctors. So I searched for the pretty black thong that matches my strapless black bra and for a minute thought I should just go like that because me look so sexy and after all, isn't that what doctors are really expecting from women, matching underwear? I may have that axiom confused with mothers and ER's.
I wandered around my apartment in a good mood. This would be the LAST doctor and he was from Japan and I'm sure their country is closer to heaven than ours so I was convinced The Japanese Jesus was going to restore me to normal. (Yes, I know that's virtually impossible but let's all just jump on that bus anyway, ok?)
Right before I left I had to pee.
As I was sitting there I thought the pee was a little warmish, more warm than other pee I've peed and I thought, is that my pee edging toward my butt crack? Good grief, why is this peeing taking so long? Is my pee canal somehow hooked up to a faucet and it's just now that I'm noticing?
Eventually the peeing ended and I went to wipe and thought, "Where is the pee exit gone to? Is it like one of those garden hoses that has just rewound itself back into my abdomen?" OH MY GOD, AM I DYING?
I had peed into and through the formerly black and now inky black thong. And now I had no time to shower again because I had wasted so much time staring at myself in the mirror. After a quick clean up, I threw on a pair of panties that were black and leopard. They ought to keep the doctor occupied for a while. God, I just used the worst word in the world, "panties." Oh I'm dying alright.
I wish this was the end of the story but it's not. Because not only did Dr. K do nothing to me, he called TWO MORE DOCTORS, one of whom I'm going to see tomorrow to get an MRI of my neck to make sure I have no BRAIN BLEEDING. Man, you can't hear that enough. Where do these people think my money comes from, Mrs. Ruth Madoff? The acupuncturist had right off the bat guessed my exact weight which made me think I got lost on the way over and ended up in a carnival.
His little dog Chippy kept circling me and the doctor said, "He no like strangers, rescue dog." So I didn't bother to be friendly. Then the dog came up and let me pet him and the acupuncturist said, "Oh myyyy, he never do that. He like you." Then the dog jumped up on me and begged for ear scratches and Dr. K said, "I can't believe this, he NEVER do this to anyone. EVER!"
Yeah, but maybe Dr. K had never had a patient who smelled vaguely like a fire hydrant before.
End of chat.