Seriously?

In the last two weeks, Terry and I have been trying to get our routine doctor visits completed. This is not always easy to schedule and still care for grandchildren and grandma. On Wednesday Terry had an appointment at 8:15 a.m. and I had one for 11:00. We literally passed each other in the garage with a "high five" at our ability to tag team with precision. My appointment was a mammogram, and when I returned home I began to describe with detail about the discomfort of the ordeal ending with, "...and then after hydraulically compressing these two metal plates ...(I swear I could hear the beep, beep, beep sound of a fork lift as these two plates were coming together.)... she asked me not to breath, as if I could have done anything else but hold my breath under the circumstances." With absolutely no sympathy from my spouse he proceeded to whine about the fact that he had been a human pin cushion that morning with far more damage to his body that I had sustained. He had had blood drawn and a couple of shots and his arm still hurt. "In fact" he said, "feel this, I still have a huge knot on my arm under this bandage. " He did have a bulge, but I pointed out that if he had had his "member" place in a vice, he would be singing a different tune, and more than likely and octave higher.

The following day I asked him how his arm felt, curious as to whether the shot was still giving him a problem. He confessed that he took off his bandage that morning, and what he thought was a swollen knot was in actuality a cotton ball that the nurse had put under the bandage. Seriously? All I can say is I am glad men don't have to have babies.