“I can’t really help with the yardwork today.” I sighed dramatically. “My brain tumor is acting up.”
My husband wasn’t buying it. “Weeding the garden won’t aggravate a tumor.”
“Are you kidding me? Any exertion could cause an aneurysm to explode in my skull.”
He glanced up, “Have you been having headaches?”
“No.”
“How’s your blood pressure been?”
“Borderline, but the doctor said recent research suggests that borderline is the new high.”
He shook his head. “If you finish the weeding, I’ll have some flowers to bring to your funeral.”
Lest you think that drama is a bad thing, I’d like to think it brings a richness to my writing. It also gives me a chance to use “lest” in a sentence. Sure, my breasts may heave with desire from time to time, or I might occasionally swoon when I see a cockroach, but doesn’t everybody? In my defense, that cockroach was a beast, and I found him IN MY PANTIES!!! (but that’s another story).
This Sunday, there will be plenty of drama at our house. My husband and I will be sitting at opposite ends of the couch, me with my Green Bay cheesehead, and him with his Steelers terrible towel. When his team scores, he does a goofy little happy dance that looks like a chicken in heat. I do a very unladylike screech accompanied by a fist pump. It’s been known to disrupt satellite reception…in Bismark. My feeling is, if you choose to live in North Dakota, ya got it comin’.
We know that sequels are rarely as good as the original. Last week I had been all worried about freaking out for my MRI. As it turns out, they put me in the full tube, and instead of freaking out, I fell asleep. Yes, people, while jackhammers were going off all around my head, I was snoring. It was kind of embarrassing to come out of the test with morning breath and drool in my hair.
So now all that’s left to worry about is the doctor’s report. I’ve already worked it out in my mind: “We found nerve impingement above and below your fusion, but we were expecting that. The brain tumor came out of right field. Didn’t see that one coming!”
Well, I didn’t know who I was rooting for in the Superbowl, but now I do. Go Packers! (I’m a Broncos fan..atic and a very sore loser). I’m glad you got through your MRI with only morning breath. That says a lot actually. I think that ‘brain tumor’ is in your head……er, I mean, it’s sillyness, NOT actually in your head! But where else would it be? It’s a figment, that’s what it is. Humorous in your story……and a bit twisted. Ah but that’s why I like you so much! The twisted part. Yum
Yesterday I had Lyme disease, but I got better. (I love Monty Python and the Holy Grail).
Me thinks, Karla, that you’re a hypochondriac….I think they have meds for that…LOL
I take after my Grandma in that regard. Too bad I don’t have room for more meds in my pill box.
You’re right. Drama can definitely be underrated. Especially when I’m sick.
Drama worked well for me, until I married. Now, not so much
I guess I should be glad that my hubby keeps me grounded, at least as much as he can.
Your hubby sounds like a cool guy. This is how my parents used to talk to each other.
As for the MRI, I would have been in a straitjacket by the time it was over.
That first sentence is a story all by itself 🙂
I *Love * the way you write…
Oh, oh! Thanks to Terri, you’ve picked up another stalker! She’s right….I browsed through several of your posts and loved them!
Terri’s a trip! I’m naming my first grandchild after her.
I’ll be a stalker too, thx to Terri. I just hope brain tumors aren’t contagious, just the mention of it & I can feel one sprouting.
Good Luck with the report.
“If you finish the weeding, I’ll have some flowers to bring to your funeral.”
Awwwww, isn’t that sweet of him?