Two years? Can it be? Yes, it's been two years since I started this blog, writing once each day (and twice on a few occasions when I couldn't fit it all in in a single post). It doesn't seem that long. Okay, it does. Or maybe it doesn't. Time, you are a fickle friend.
So today I experienced something that happens from time to time that, in this case, just made me laugh. It has to do with being separated from our personal items and our comfort level (or lack of comfort) that entails.
I went to have an MRI this afternoon on my elbow (and I swear, I'm going to put an update about that soon, when I have the results, but not yet). The whole process of the MRI takes some time. It occurs in a room that must meet certain criteria, which doesn't include your personal belongings. So, you get to leave your things elsewhere while it all goes down.
Today, I had to remove my shirt, put on a cotton top and leave my belongings, including my purse, in a locker. But not to worry, you can lock this locker with a key. Then, so you'll feel comforted that your belongings are safe, you can put the key around your neck. After that's done, please follow the technician to the next building, because you have to have contrast injected into your elbow first.
We arrive at the next building, go into the room, and the technician tells me I can give her the key and she'll hold it for me. I realize there must be a backup key to this locker, but the whole psychological thing with the key is that you feel you've got your things locked away someplace safe and only you can access them. But, you've just been asked to give away the key.
The technician tells me what's about to happen with the contrast injection and then leaves the room for the doctor to come in. I look on the cabinet and notice the key isn't there. It's gone. She and the doctor come in in a few minutes and we spend thirty minutes injecting contrast with a fluoroscope to get everything right. Now, we can head back to the main building for the MRI. I ask her, "where did the key go?" and she says, "I'll get it to you when we're finished."
Mind you, if someone at that facility wanted to steal my things or copy my credit card information, the culprit would find a way around the key situation, but the whole emotional safety aspect of the key was negated when the key disappears until you magically need it at the end to claim your items.
Aside from the questionable safety of my personal belongings, the staff was great, the MRI went well, I'll find out soon what's up with my arm. Only...wait a minute...the naked pictures of my husband I keep in my wallet are missing!
The Big Boy Update: Tattletale. He yelled down from the top of the stairs yesterday evening that his sister had pooped. He was tattling, but he was trying to be helpful, not specifically get her in trouble. She had gotten her blanket, taken her dirty pullup off, climbed up onto the desk and sat her dirty bottom on her blanket. Sanitizing and cleaning followed.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She doesn't like pullups. She much prefers underpants. Only a few minutes ago she disappeared (wearing a pullup) and re-appeared with only underpants on. If only she were trustworthy in underpants.
Fitness Update: Trainer on vacation; rain storm imminent. To the fitness room we went this morning. My neighbor, Uncle Jonathan and I spent almost ninety minutes exercising and talking together.
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