doctors and nurses »

I hate when people point out that I have big ones. Obviously, I’m aware; they are on my body after all.

Although, I cannot blame my kids for this body condition; unlike many other things that are going wrong with my body such as my Tom Selleck Mustache, gray hair and fine lines/wrinkles, my big ones have been… well, big, for quite some time. I can even recall people speaking, often in hushed voices, about my big ones since I was in my early teens.

At this point, I can’t even tell you their exact size. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to know. My big ones cause certain people to stare, look longer than I feel is really necessary, and have been the centerpiece of some uncomfortable situations. On one occasion, someone called an “associate” over to take a look. How awkward! Are my big ones that noteworthy? Even after I had my children, my big ones have been referred to as:

Impressive
Well above average
Massive
Jumbo
Colossal
Plump
Much more voluminous than expected

There really isn’t anything I can do about it now. They look large whether I’m wearing a turtleneck or a V-Cut. My big ones appear massive in any kind of light. Since I can’t attribute this to pregnancy/hormones/nursing, I guess it could have a genetic link. At this point, even after diet and exercise, they remain over-sized, and I suppose the only way to reduce their girth would be through surgery.

“Here we go again,” I thought. Today, upon meeting a doctor for the first time, he even took an extra long look. “I know this may feel a bit awkward, but hold still just a moment longer,” he said as he studied my big ones. My face felt flushed and I felt more than just a little awkward as this so called ‘doctor’ examined my big ones oh so thoroughly. I would have assumed that since he was a doctor (and a man of his age), he would have seen his fair share of big ones, and wouldn’t need to hold such a lingering glance at mine. Finally, his exam concluded but not before he gently rubbed all over them. This motion actually made me feel nauseous for a moment.

“I should ask to see this guys diploma,” I thought. “Was such a comprehensive rub-down of my big ones really that necessary? This guy probably could have made a diagnosis just by looking at me. He probably gets some sick pleasure from getting all up on someone’s big ones like that,” I silently contemplated. “This guy’s first name could be ‘Doctor’ for all I know. I wonder where he went to medical school…” but then my inner dialogue was cut short.

“There,” he said pulling his hands away, “you’re all finished.”

“Great,” I said looking at the ‘Doctor’ suspiciously.

“We’ll get the results of your throat culture in a few minutes. Has anyone ever told you that you should have had your tonsils out a long time ago?” he questioned. “They are some of the biggest ones I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice,” I casually replied.

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I’d been having one of those stayed-up-too-late-and-forgot-to-set-the-alarm type mornings, and just as I began to settle down and tried to find my groove, my daughter, who had been out of her highchair for all of three minutes, found, ate and began to choke on some Legos. Because of my daughter’s tendency to climb, eat, and generally cause mayhem, I rarely leave her alone in a room and was thankfully right there as she first coughed then stopped making noise all together as the plastic blocks obstructed her airway. I quickly ran over, swooped her up and performed the Heimlich on her. After just two thrusts she coughed out the Legos, which were two blocks stuck together, and as a bonus I got a handful of Eggo Waffles she had eaten 10 minutes earlier. She immediately coughed, cried, and then began running around acting normal, while I stood there holding regurgitated Eggo & Lego in my hands and could actually feel the hairs on my head turning gray.

I spent the next hour following her around, listening to her breathing, and of course looking for any other choking hazards that may have been left around. Normally, my older children’s toys remain in the finished basement’s playroom, and only my daughter’s toys are within her reach upstairs. This was something that fell off a friend’s toy who had visited Sunday.

Still shaken by the incident after an hour, I called her doctor and got some reassurance that she was probably fine now after giving them the play-by-play. I tried not to think about what could have happened since she was fine and I was right there. Cecilia, aka ‘Baby Hoover,’ enjoys eating a variety of things off the floor including but not limited to old food, grass, mulch, and evidently Legos. My floors aren’t that dirty, she just finds every little thing that falls on the floor. If you track in a piece of mulch or dirt from outside, this child will be eating it within 20 minutes. All I know is that I cannot wait for her to grow out of her Pica phase…it’s causing premature aging on my part.

Hours later, while she was napping, I went through and did a visual sweep of the area, checking under couches and the entertainment center to ensure I didn’t miss any other Lego parts. Thankfully, I didn’t find any more Legos, but did get a couple other items I’d been looking for…

Under the entertainment center was a missing DVD, a couple puzzle pieces, a remote and a empty box of raisins. I hate finding food or food items fearing one day I’ll have insects crawling around my house as a result. So as I continued my sweep of the house, I was especially irritated to find that there was a raisin on the rug by the front door.

Only, it wasn’t a raisin…

So to end my Monday, which by definition are generally shitty, I picked up a small turd that must have fallen out of my daughter’s diaper just before I had changed her that morning. She won’t use the potty yet at 19 months, but once she goes in her diaper she’ll get a clean diaper, start disrobing, and even try to remove the dirty diaper. Through this normal process a little mini turd must have rolled out, and unbeknownst to me, and just laid there looking like a raisin waiting for me to pick up and squeeze between my fingers.

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Big Ones

Lego my Eggo

Diagnosis Unknown