Medical Appts: Bad things come in 3’s

Hi guys. I might pass out while writing this post because I just went through an extensive series of medical mumbo-jumbo. In order to stay in Canada with my man, one of the 40 billion requirements is a medical examination. So, today was the day to get that out of the way.

10:00 am: Arrive at doctor’s office. Fill out paperwork that far surpasses any and all college applications, home ownership and anything else you can think of. Combined.

10:30 am: My name gets called. I look like this:

I’ll give you a snippet of the beginning of the appointment:

Doctor: “Hello, what country are you from?”

Me: “The U.S.”

Doctor: “Do you smoke?”

Me: “No”

Doctor: “Take off your top”

……and then he stamped a few things and I was on my way. That cost $140. If I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I could make $140 taking my top off at a lot of other places. But that’s neither here nor there.

11:00am: Arrive at location #2; Radiology. Apparently they also need X-rays of my chest. (Guess Canada’s a boob guy)

11:01 am: I was called in. Seriously, point for Canada and like no wait times in a doctor’s office. Bravo, you guys.

And here’s how that went:

Tech: “Take your top off (again?) and put these on your nipples.

Me: “Uhhhhhh, whaaaat??!!”

(These are what she was referring to):

To avoid any pervi-ness, I must alert you that that is not my chest- it is my wrist. Annnnnd that was another awkward appointment. (Also, $50)

I got a minor break in between appt 2 and 3 so I jetted home for some veggies

And I did a ton of upper body work. I think it was my way of psyching up for what was about to come next. BLOOD.

1 pm: Blood and urine test. I was nervous. I hate needles. This was Tyler’s way of “comforting” me:

Yes, I am pretty tough. And I did work out the day after breaking my foot. But blood and needles? No way Jose.

So, the nursey lady drained my blood, vampire that she was.

Then she gave me the infamous plastic cup and sent me to the washroom. I finished my bizzznazzzz and noticed something was wrong. And here’s how that went:

Me: “Uh, nurse, there’s no label on this cup. I just want to make sure you guys know it’s my pee”

Nurse: (Glancing towards obsiously ‘head’ nurse) “Whaaa? No! Let me see!” (She runs into the bathroom, pulls the cup from that special little cubby and brings it out into the hall. She holds it up for all to see that I ate beets last night.) “Ahhhh no label! I’ll make one now!”

Me: “Please don’t show everyone my pee. Just make sure it’s labeled. I don’t want to have to come back”

Nurse: “No problem. All done. You can leave now.”

Seriously, people. I have been traumatized. At least that last place didn’t want me to take my top off.