I Spit, Twice

Posted: June 7th, 2010 | Author: | Filed under: cancer girl | Comments Off

::: Cancer Girl does her best Joe Pesci impersonation:::

   “Yous gonna place ya bet or waste my time while ya stand’n there pick’n ya nose? Come on now! “
   “Are ya gonna bet on the long shot? Ya know, the insurance creeps actually have’n a heart and approve’n the expensive geneo-spit-o test from the get go? Or, are ya gonna bet on the Insurance Pencil Heads saying ‘”screw yous and ya possible genetic cancer bomb” and refuse to pay for it?”
   “Bet already! Ya killing me here, bet, bet! 

   Last Friday I spit, twice. Oh you naughty thinker, you! It was for a medical test. =;>
   First, my theories on the Geneticist’s front office quarterback, Fawn … She’s either Cher’s daughter that Cher never told anyone about — or — Cher was abducted by an alien UFO full of Cher fans and they miniaturized and replicated Cher.
   Fawn (yes, that’s her real name) is as sweet as her name and her voice over the phone sounds. Thank you again, Fawn, for helping me out the way you did. =;>
   I still think she’s a sweetie pie even after she aggravated me by making me fill out a stack, yes a STACK, of medical history questionnaires (I hate questionnaires). Plus, I had to try and concentrate on answering those zillion nit-picky questions while an ancient man did his best to flirt with Sharleen who had come along to keep me company. She got to hear all about his professional musician stories and name dropping of movie stars and musicians of yesteryear. Go, Sharleen, work it girl!
   The cheerful daisies on the Nurse Practitioners dress matched her cheerful personality and professionalism. For someone who might possibly be scared out of their wits about having to get a Bracanalysis test done– to see if there was a ticking cancer bomb in their DNA — she’d be the perfect person to help ease you through it all.
   We all know that’s not the frame of mind moi walked in there with though … “Let’s get this show moving people! I’ve got my life to get on with here!” “Yada, yada, yada, I’ve done my research, let’s do it,” and “Let’s see how much trouble I can stir up today.”
   So, I had fun with her. Throughout the counseling session I did my best impersonations of my beloved Aunt June from Alabama (who really isn’t my aunt, she’s my first cousin — it’s a Southern thing, trust me on this one.) Aunt June herself had a lumpectomy and did the BRACA tests just two months ago.
   The Nurse Practitioner set out two small paper cups with Scope in them and then handed me a large tube … Aunt June? You would have been proud of me. I got your Alabama lilt and smartassed tone down pat … “You want me to spit intaah this here thaaang?”
   Having to swish Scope mouthwash for exactly 30 seconds once isn’t all that bad. But twice? It’s disgusting. That taste obnoxiously stayed in my mouth for hours and hours. But, hey, I got a compliment out of it. The Nurse Practitioner told me I was a good spitter! (I’m good at something!!)
   She also informed me that the insurance company may well refuse to initially pay for the BRACA test. The test is expensive, my cancer is non-invasive and my mother hasn’t had breast cancer — yet. Never mind the facts that my mother’s three sisters had breast cancer, numerous lumpectomies, a mastectomy (who is the only remaining sister who is still alive); two of the sisters died from breast cancer; and my eldest first cousin just had her first lumpectomy two months ago. And/or, that the only other female on this side of my family who did NOT have a hysterectomy (besides myself) out of nine women, died of ovarian cancer at 38 years old.
   If I may, might I request a favor of you? Would you please send waves of pink light, with love, via your thoughts and prayers to the person who will make the decision on my test being approved? Thank you. =;>
   The next step, if the insurance company says no, is to get letters of appeal from my doctors. I doubt that’ll be a problem to obtain. I truly am blessed with a fabtabulous medical team.
   Anyway, back to my story … After the office visit was done and Sharleen and I were walking towards the car, I turned to her and said, “You know how you get stickers after you’ve voted or given blood? Sharleen nodded yes. I continued, “I voted!” I Gave Blood!” “Well, I think I deserve an “I Spit!” sticker! Two of them!”
   I got one of those official mom “you’re damn funny, but you’re damn rotten too” smirks/looks.

::: Cancer Girl tucks a couple of Franklins in her bra :::
“Yous going for the ‘right off the bat approval’ long shot??? Hey, I gots a pretty bridge to sell yas!”
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