100 Pictures Project: September 14, 2007

Here are the pictures from today’s edition of the 100 Pictures project.

Full disclosure: I only took 99 pictures because my battery died. I held on as long as I could.

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A note about the piggy bank. I got this piggy bank from my great aunt and uncle when I was a baby (it was a baptism gift). It has my name and birth date engraved on it, which I tried to capture, with little success. I’ll blame the tarnish for now, but hopefully I will be able to produce a better photo of it another day.

Thank goodness I didn't wear the flood pants…

…or I sure would have looked silly today!

No flooding occurred as my bladder behaved until the technologist told me that I could finally pee (you only have to have a full bladder for part of a pelvic ultrasound). However, pee seemed to follow me around today as when I entered the subway, the stairwell reeked of it. Then I began to smell it on the train itself. I started to get paranoid that it was me who smelled like pee. I was paranoid enough that I was going to ask the lady I was sitting next to “Do I smell like urine” but then the gross looking guy by the door got off the train and the pee-smell dissipated. Phew – it wasn’t me, and I didn’t have to embarrass myself to confirm that!

Then, to add insult to injury, when I transferred trains to go down south, the southbound train smelled like someone had taken a dump in it. I figured it was a baby cuz Toronto is such a polite city, unless you are fighting for a seat on the subway, then it’s every person for themself! Either way, whoever farted or shit themselves was terribly stinky.

So all these reminders of bodily functions did not make the trip to the ultrasound with a very full bladder pleasant, to say the least. Fortunately I didn’t wait long once I got there and the full-bladder part of the ultrasound does not take long. Since the technologist is not legally allowed to tell the patient about what they see (the radiologist examines the pictures then sends the results to the referring doctor), she couldn’t tell me what was going on, but I have a feeling that she didn’t see too much cuz after she examined me she asked again where the pain was. Once I showed her, she took a few more pictures, but I suspect that there isn’t too much to get excited about. However, people in the medical profession are trained not to say “Holy shit! What the fuck is that?!” so I guess I won’t know the answer until I go back to my regular doctor. However, I am comforted that I am not crazy as the sore spot has been more painful today than it has been in awhile. I find that it isn’t as painful when I am absorbed in other stuff, but since it was being pressed and prodded for 20 minutes (and was the focus of much of my day), it’s sore now. I do know it’s real though – I’m not making it up. It’s not a debilitating pain, but it’s there and not normal, so it’s best to check these things out cuz you never know what it could really mean.

QotD: Childhood Frights

What were you afraid of as a child that seems silly to you now?
Submitted by navelgazer.

When I was around four or five years old, my mom would put my sister and I to bed and tell us that we could read for a few minutes but that was it. If we stayed up later than we should, she would yell at us through the baby monitor she had to “get to bed”. The monitor was scratchy and it didn’t sound like Mummy to us, so it would scare us half to death and the light would shut off very quickly. We couldn’t believe someone knew that we were staying up past our bedtime.

It was years before I realized it was my mom. That’s the silly part.

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada
This work by Melissa Price-Mitchell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.
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