I don't envy pregnant women...

I had an ultrasound today. It would have been fun except for the technician need to jam this slightly rounded thing between my ribs, twist it in a few times, then hold it there for a count of three while she takes pictures of my internal organs.

I think I may have gotten the extra BDSM treatment because I kept asking questions like:

• Why is the image output curved?
• How much power does that output?
• How much did the pay for that picture on the ceiling? (focus was wrong and they scaled it up too much from the original picture)
• How deep into flesh can that get?
• Have you ever seen body parts you didn't expect to see?

I suspected she wanted to get the fat guy out of her room, but if I'm going to experience something new (and slightly painful), I'm going to ask questions. You never know if I need to write about someone getting an ultrasound in the future. Or have fingers jammed between ribs.

I also had another blood draw. This time, the nurse took a syringe worth and filled the four (!) vials instead of switching the tubes each time. I'm greatly appreciative of this, actually. For some reason, the nurses at my old hospital were fantastic at giving blood. Here, they wrap that rubber around, waiting until your arm is about to pop, then keep tapping it. Takes longer and it hurts more that way.

All this is because the doctor started off with "I won't want you to worry, but I'd like a few more tests."

Okay, how can you NOT worry about that? Seriously? Well, in a week or so, I'll find out if I'm suppose to worry or I'm suppose to relax.