Pray For Me!

It's that time of year when I'm due for a medical checkup. This does not make me happy. Doctors and I do not get along very well. They like to touch me. I don't want them touching me.

I think they should stand on the other side of the room and wave a body x-ray thingy in my general direction and get the same results.

Ya see... it's like this: First, they want me to change into a flimsy paper gown. Forget it! They're not getting free nudie entertainment from me. I'm keeping my clothes on.

A few years ago, a doc cupped my *naked* breast while listening to my heart! What's a gal supposed to do when that happens? Naturally, I decked him, stepped over his unconscious body and got out of there. I was so distraught I bought a chocolate cheesecake and ate the whole thing on the drive home.

Cowboy was worried we'd be sued but I assured him I hadn't broken any bones. The next doc wasn't so lucky when he tried to put a stethoscope under my breast... I bent his thumb back but it wasn't like he was performing surgery the next day. He yelled just like a girl, too. Tsk.

Then there are the vampires that draw blood. I had no idea they could work while the sun was out. I'm taking a vial of holy water and a wooden stake and a silver cross with me when I go to the lab.

Cowboy thinks my concerns are blown out of proportion. Oh sure, he's an admiral and when he needs to get a physical, hoards of female navy docs rush to be the one that gets to examine him. I grabbed his yummy stick and other goodies one night after he had an exam and asked, "Did she say cough?"

Tsk! The man actually blushed and gave me a swat!

Of course he thinks I can't be trusted to go to a doctor's appointment on my own. Of course I can! Last time I went, I took the rottweiler with me... the doc really kept his distance and you know what? He said I was in very good health! So there. I was almost moved to give him a chocolate bar but then sanity reared its head and I ate it, instead.

His Holiness says he's taking me to the appointment. I have the distinct feeling he's going just to protect the doc... My appointment is on the navy base at the clinic. The blood drinkers drew straws to see who gets to try to get blood out of my veins. I like to shout uncouth phrases at them while they're trying to stick that humonguous needle in my arm. You can't tell me they're not drinking it; they take enough blood to get a football player through open heart surgery. Cowboy says I have to behave or else. Folks... if they're still alive and all in one piece with only minimal bruising to show that I was there... I *am* behaving.

And for the record... it is pure rumor that two docs requested an overseas transfer prior to my appointment. Such exaggeration! It was only one doc and his excuse was that he had a family... tsk. They don't make sailors the way they used to.

I'll post a damage report if I can sit comfortably when I get home.

~Sar~