Today I went for my second visit to the new toxicdoc/new rollogist (she does both!). She’s the head of the COWS in MEDICINE. (That’s Center for Obscure and Weird Stuff.) I wasn’t expecting this, but they did another nerve conduction study. Owwww. This was not as bad as the last one, no needles in the tongue. This time they put little purple Sharpie dots all over my arms, to show them where to shock me. As I lay there, I chatted with the tech, Marcie. She was a sweetheart. She has a 12-year-old daughter, so in between electrical shocks, we talked about the drama of life with a “tween” (there’s a whole ‘nother blog post, believe me).
At one point she was talking about the different areas of the body where they use this nerve conduction test. I thought she said, the “tri-genital area.” Whuh? I’ve heard of the tri-state area. And of course, the genital area. But . . . three? Genitals? And then I thought, do I really wanna go there, while I’m lying on a table getting shocked, trying to keep my anxiety at bay . . . naw, I think not.
Curious thing, as I lay there, in between yelping, flinching, jumping, chatting, I stared at the ceiling and listened to the soundtrack in my mind. I’m fairly embarrassed to say, the pre-eminent selection with which my internal jukebox favored me, was from the SNL video I saw over the weekend.
STOP. Hammer Time! No, it’s not really Hammer Time. I just have to say that after I say “STOP” abruptly. What I REALLY mean to say is do not click that link unless you don’t mind explicit sexual references couched in profoundly sophomoric humor. But if you do like that sort of thing . . . proceed.
Where was I? Oh, yea, so I’m lying there, and in my head . . .
Not gonna give you a fancy car,
girl you gotta know you’re my shining star!
And when I realize what I’m singing, well, cheez, is that thing still stuck in my head? So I try to do better and I end up with Bob Seger
She took the keys to my Cadillac car
Jumped in my kitty
And drove off far . . .
Where’d that come from? Must’ve been the fancy car . . .
Honey, you are my shining star
Don’t you go away . . .
OK, now that must be from the “star” plus the “car” . . .
Then I go into a little High School Musical action (LG is performing in it tonight at drama camp):
Shake your booty and turn around (Marcie has just asked me to change sides)
Do the hustle! Show some muscle!
It’s tiring, being me. Lying on a cot getting shocked . . . HEY!
I’m lyin’ on a cot
By a doc . . .
Maybe I could write the Nerve Conduction Rap!
Well, now I shall eat a small lunch, and guess what my afternoon holds? Give up? Another brain MRI! Woo-hoo! At least I know what to expect from that. Pardon me while I go get my head strapped in a cage while a freight train runs all around it, banging and clanging and
Don’t go ridin’
on that long, black train.
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