Happy Chuchilla!

I have a sore throat. I have a wretched cold. I have a UTI. I’m fat. And I’m feeling old and ugly. Last week, I had yet another rash all over my body. It seems that damn Lyme Disease picks and chooses when to remind me that I am always at it’s mercy.

On Wednesday, I was able to accomplish visiting three doctors within two hours. First, my PC, then my Urologist, and finally my Obs-Gyn. You’ve heard of speed dating –well I did speed doctoring.   My OBS-GYN had the easiest job. He did not have to do a urine analysis; I just did that with the Urologist. He didn’t need to perform a breast exam; I just did that with my PC and I had a mammogram last week. All he had to do was the Pap.   Despite how rotten I felt, I must say that my OBS-GYN physician certainly made my day as he announced that I have a healthy, happy, youthful chuchilla. Of course I do–would you expect anything less?

As one matures, when it comes to compliments, we’ll take just about anything we can get. So with my Levaquin, Z-Pack + Peridiem prescriptions in hand, I called my sister Charlene, (Dean of Undergraduate Nursing at Simmons College and a Nurse Practioner) to share my good news. I was still young, at least down there.

Well “the spoiler” that she is, my sister announced that, she really had never heard of a Doctor knowing that one has a “happy” chuchilla.   We debated momentarily then I announced, “He also said it was full of estrogen.”   This news made her laugh so hard she nearly peed her pants. Hmm… She has had four children so that bladder must be getting leaky! Evidently, her chuchilla is not so happy!

Next, I called my sister Christine and told her the same thing. Her response was, “Oh how nice,” and then added, “Have you had any Botox recently?” What did she think, I Botox my chuchilla?

So despite the fact I have certainly have signs of maturity. For example my “translucent blonde” roots have significantly increased. Most wait servers call me “Ma’am,” and the boys in the grocery store actually ask me if I need help in taking my groceries to the car, I can however rejoice in the fact that for whatever reason there is a part of me that remains “young.”

So the moment I begin feeling better, I am going to share my happy chuchilla with my husband. I am very confident he will be really delighted that I am young where it counts!

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