So, I went in this morning to have my blood work done in anticipation for my annual physical next week.
I walked into the doctor’s office and told the nurse why I was there. She looked at my records. Then, she looked at me. “We’ll need to do a lipid panel to check your cholesterol,” she said. Then, she looked back at my records and looked back at me. “Have you ever had a thyroid exam?”
“No,” I answered.
She looked back at my records and looked at me. “You may need a thyroid exam.” Again, she checked the records and looked me over. “Did the doctor mention a thyroid exam?”
Eventually, it was determined that I didn’t need a thyroid exam, despite the nurse’s dubious glances to the contrary.
Lady, if you want to call me fat, just come out and say it! Please! I get it!
Oh, but it gets better. Even after she was done and she was sending me on to the lab to get all my blood sucked out of me, she called out across the waiting room, “Be sure to watch the sweets!”
I didn’t tell her to fuck off, though I wanted to… but if telepathy could kill…