No Spring Chicken

At my recent sojourn at the local hospital, I was proverbially thumped in the forehead for forgetting that I am no longer a spring chicken.  As if I needed a sour side dish of that with a serving of lumpectomy....  Anyhoo!

My first medical act upon check-in is to pee into a cup to see if I have a bun in the oven.  When the nurse peruses my negative results, I joke to Mr B, "Well, at least we aren't leaving here with a baby!"  And Crusty Nurse Cruella grimly confirms, "No, of course not dear, that test is really for girls who are still in their 20's and 30's," as she efficiently goes back to her business....  bitch!

Next I am wheeled into radiology when who should appear but Barbie's longtime boyfriend Ken-blond, golden, perfectly proportioned, and eternally youthful.  "Hello! Miz B!  My name is Corey!  I'm gonna be looking after you this morning!  So how are you today?!?"    ....for fuck's sake....  Are you kidding me?  A kid named Corey is now the boss of my BOOB???  ....for fuck's sake...  Anyone with the name of Corey cannot be a day over 15 years old...  for fuck's sake...  So Corey is undressing my left boob and appears to be puzzled and concerned, "Miz B!  What do we have here!?!" So I patiently explain to Corey in my best I am talking to a 15 yr old voice, "Corey honey,  my boob is covered in numbing cream and seran wrap BECAUSE THE DOCTOR TOLD ME TO!"  Despite my piss-n-vinegar tone, Corey breezily proceeds to wipe down my lotioned, numb boob...  ...for fuck's sake...

Corey may have been young and dumb, but I'm gonna give him pretty.

Laws...