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Why I am unique, and how my environment affects this.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Supplemental post

A funny story and what is going on with my blog. So read the first part, and skip the second if you wish. What is going on with my comments? Why are there two comment fields? I have no idea. I am about to eat lunch, then I have to do some work. I will get that sorted out at some point this week, but just leave comments wherever. I will read them. Thanks. And feel free to email me or leave a comment of you know why I have two comment fields and you know how to make them live happily together. The dentist. Making this story as short as possible, because we all know how I ramble on. I went to the dentist. Why would I go whilst pregnant, you ask? Indeed. Because I believe my last trip to the dentist occurred in May 1999. There is no dental insurance in graduate school, then I was pregnant with Martin, then I just kept putting it off. I didn't want the pattern to repeat. I figured if I go now, they won't be able to do much, but I will get in the "system", so I bit the bullet and went. I just wanted to make sure all my teeth weren't rotting out. I mean, they look fine to me, but I am no dentist. So, I go the office this morning. The "assistant" gets me, and walks me through this maze, while chattering away then says, "oh but first we'll take some x-rays." I'm just opening my mouth to say, I don't think so I'm knocked up. And then she says, quite offhandedly "oh, you aren't pregnant are you?" Why, yes I am, I reply, about 5 months. Oh, so no x-rays right now. She said I would discuss it with the doc. Now, not to brag or anything, but I have probably had more radiological training than that entire office (and it was a large office), and I most assuredly have a greater knowledge base of radio chemistry and nuclear chemistry that any of those people. I do have a radioisotope table at home, I confess. So thanks, but no thanks. If my teeth have been merrily rotting away for years, they can rot for another 6 months. Anyway, what was the point of this story? Just the way she asked if I was pregnant. It was so off-handed. I mean, I WROTE it down on the sheet. You would think they could at least take a look.

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