Forgive me Father, for I have sinned
I honestly could never explain to anyone how I manage to be the biggest fuck up on earth in the most unintentional of ways. Yet, I manage to hold my title quite soundly. It’s best to just get the first part over with.
I broke a turtle. Tardy took the hit.
Mother fucking turtles!!!! At one time I’d asked, no… even begged Mr. Morgan for a turtle and now look, I have gone and broke one.
I came home yesterday and Tardy had beached himself on the basking station. Five hours later he was still just sitting there looking really dry, too dry. Far dryer than I thought a turtle should be looking. Ok… don’t call Peta, they’ll revoke my card.
Why Tardy chose to beach himself I don’t know, I thought I was helping so I lifted him into the water but he’d beached for so long that he’d fused one foot to the plastic and a few toes came off. It happened very fast. I didn’t rip him off like a waxing party, I didn’t even know he was attached until….. well until he wasn’t anymore.
For the rest of the night he was a tripod. Tardy the Tripod Turtle. I confessed the incident to Mr. Morgan and he looked at me as though he might vomit.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I didn’t MEAN to!”
“You are seriously disgusting. Is he dead?”
“No. Just hiding that leg.”
Fuck guys, should I just put poison in the ant farm, flush the turtles and starve the dogs? Right so there’s that.
I won’t really go into specifics on my illnesses but I can say what happened at the appointments. In case those who aren’t related or know me in person – no I do not have AIDS. To be honest though, how I skirted it is indeed lucky, so in that aspect I can never truly say I didn’t hit the lottery.
I go to the doctor that I do because he is very busy writing while I talk, unlike my gynecologist who likes to discuss where I am going on vacation while he is knuckle deep feeling up an ovary. I like them both, but I have at present about 6 different doctors I see. This, combined with a known medical background and a history of insane hypochondria, makes for a very demanding patient.
My nerves have been in control for the most part quite some time but there was a spell when I was in my GP’s office twice a week for some pain that frightened me. I had no problem walking in and without a hello saying “I need an MRI, CT scan, full comp. blood panel with differential, and a chest ray.” /shifts on the seat expectantly.
You can imagine how a doctor will look at you for this behavior.
Yesterday wasn’t entirely different, I just had not seen this doctor for some time and when I began the questioning of why not this test, or that one, I saw the spark in his eye come to life “Oh fuck, it’s THIS crazy bitch again!”
But I wasn’t wrong. He took a look at my hands and baffle came over him. He said he was not qualified to treat me. I appreciated the honesty but I was not going to leave empty handed (pun!) so said what tests I wanted. On one test he said “Oh, yeah that’s a good idea.”
/beat.
Impossible to explain the look that got him but an eyebrow went up with half humor half, jesus christ... where is that license.
Next appointment, the 3 month shot in the ass. I knew my regular nurse wouldn’t be there. As I sat waiting one very very pregnant girl looked over at another (not together) and asked how far along she was.
My eyes instantly lifted from the magazine. That’s a serious …. Just wow thing to say to a stranger in a gyno office.
The girl shot her head left so fast with a glare that would make Satan pay alimony. “I don’t know, I just got knocked up and found out yesterday.”
I was giggling in my chair, couldn’t help it and started making a couple bop sounds (think Donkey in Shrek 2)
My turn for the needle and I told the nurse that because she wasn’t my normal nurse I needed a snoopy bandaid. I also mentioned that I ALWAYS get the red crayola crayon from my nurse, but it would be like cheating, so snoopy would due. She left me in a huff, white pasty ass hanging out in a lean over to fetch my snoopy.
On the way out a girl much younger than I with a little boy perhaps 4 years old was heading out, she was on the phone but bitching at him to HURRY UP! Laughing more at the entire dynamics of that building, I said “Yeah little man pick up the pace” – nicely of course. She turned to me and said kids never listen anyway.
Well. Little man got to pace picking so much that he fell face first and motion-motivated enough to summersault. He popped right up, undaunted, she finished her call and THEN asked if he was ok.
I patted my Snoopy.
-DM
I broke a turtle. Tardy took the hit.
Mother fucking turtles!!!! At one time I’d asked, no… even begged Mr. Morgan for a turtle and now look, I have gone and broke one.
I came home yesterday and Tardy had beached himself on the basking station. Five hours later he was still just sitting there looking really dry, too dry. Far dryer than I thought a turtle should be looking. Ok… don’t call Peta, they’ll revoke my card.
Why Tardy chose to beach himself I don’t know, I thought I was helping so I lifted him into the water but he’d beached for so long that he’d fused one foot to the plastic and a few toes came off. It happened very fast. I didn’t rip him off like a waxing party, I didn’t even know he was attached until….. well until he wasn’t anymore.
For the rest of the night he was a tripod. Tardy the Tripod Turtle. I confessed the incident to Mr. Morgan and he looked at me as though he might vomit.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I didn’t MEAN to!”
“You are seriously disgusting. Is he dead?”
“No. Just hiding that leg.”
Fuck guys, should I just put poison in the ant farm, flush the turtles and starve the dogs? Right so there’s that.
I won’t really go into specifics on my illnesses but I can say what happened at the appointments. In case those who aren’t related or know me in person – no I do not have AIDS. To be honest though, how I skirted it is indeed lucky, so in that aspect I can never truly say I didn’t hit the lottery.
I go to the doctor that I do because he is very busy writing while I talk, unlike my gynecologist who likes to discuss where I am going on vacation while he is knuckle deep feeling up an ovary. I like them both, but I have at present about 6 different doctors I see. This, combined with a known medical background and a history of insane hypochondria, makes for a very demanding patient.
My nerves have been in control for the most part quite some time but there was a spell when I was in my GP’s office twice a week for some pain that frightened me. I had no problem walking in and without a hello saying “I need an MRI, CT scan, full comp. blood panel with differential, and a chest ray.” /shifts on the seat expectantly.
You can imagine how a doctor will look at you for this behavior.
Yesterday wasn’t entirely different, I just had not seen this doctor for some time and when I began the questioning of why not this test, or that one, I saw the spark in his eye come to life “Oh fuck, it’s THIS crazy bitch again!”
But I wasn’t wrong. He took a look at my hands and baffle came over him. He said he was not qualified to treat me. I appreciated the honesty but I was not going to leave empty handed (pun!) so said what tests I wanted. On one test he said “Oh, yeah that’s a good idea.”
/beat.
Impossible to explain the look that got him but an eyebrow went up with half humor half, jesus christ... where is that license.
Next appointment, the 3 month shot in the ass. I knew my regular nurse wouldn’t be there. As I sat waiting one very very pregnant girl looked over at another (not together) and asked how far along she was.
My eyes instantly lifted from the magazine. That’s a serious …. Just wow thing to say to a stranger in a gyno office.
The girl shot her head left so fast with a glare that would make Satan pay alimony. “I don’t know, I just got knocked up and found out yesterday.”
I was giggling in my chair, couldn’t help it and started making a couple bop sounds (think Donkey in Shrek 2)
My turn for the needle and I told the nurse that because she wasn’t my normal nurse I needed a snoopy bandaid. I also mentioned that I ALWAYS get the red crayola crayon from my nurse, but it would be like cheating, so snoopy would due. She left me in a huff, white pasty ass hanging out in a lean over to fetch my snoopy.
On the way out a girl much younger than I with a little boy perhaps 4 years old was heading out, she was on the phone but bitching at him to HURRY UP! Laughing more at the entire dynamics of that building, I said “Yeah little man pick up the pace” – nicely of course. She turned to me and said kids never listen anyway.
Well. Little man got to pace picking so much that he fell face first and motion-motivated enough to summersault. He popped right up, undaunted, she finished her call and THEN asked if he was ok.
I patted my Snoopy.
-DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
5:33 PM
6 Comments:
Sorry about the turtle. I killed mine years ago.
we had a pet turtle, America. Didnt know much about turtles. Didnt think that there was much to know about turtle care. Needless to day, we buried America. He died with his head and legs fully extended. sad deal. Looked like a regular rigamortis tortoise. upon further investigation (after the fact) i discovered that American Box Turtles need to hibernate or their metabolizm burns all their nutrients away and they starve to death. Sad day, ours starved to death....even tho he had food. Kind of confusing. We both shed tears and had graveside service. After such heartbreak for myself & my son, we have decided that some creatures are not good/easy pets and when we encounter a turtle crossing the road, we stop...help him across...and go on our way.
xo
What did you do with the foot?? Is it still basking in the sun? Do you now have two turtles and a turtle foot? I am sorry I thought turtles would be easy, I mean they outlived the dinosaurs. :)
I don't really know Prada, I've kinda just avoided them since. I did change the water, they like it pretty warm, then I pellet toss and carry on with the "if you don't look, it's not there" thing. I do feel pretty bad though, it shocked me and I looked around as though the room gremlins had seen what I'd done. Ugh. -DM
Tardy's foot has joined Clyde Otis in turtle heaven. Why do the girls in this office ALL kill or maim their turtles? Lucky that you still have the rest of him, though.
Sorry about your turtle. :-( I'm sure he/she will be okay and you will learn "the way of the turtle". Will be waiting for your test results.........which I'm sure will be as perfect as you! :-)
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