Robin Likes to Talk

Playboy Bunny Liver

I wait. I wait with ugly green plastic chairs. They have exactly one minute until my appointment time. If they don’t hurry up and call..

“Robin?”

So lucky.

I follow the tech to a dim room.

“Nice to see you again” she says.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you earlier walking down the hall.”

“How do you know it was me?”

“Your boots, I love your boots. You’re so tall and slender.”

I smile nervously. “Thank you.”

She tells me where to hang my coat and purse and tells me to get on the table. It’s cold, the mattress is at least an inch thick.

She tries to make small talk. I gave small, one word answers.

“Ok this is what we’re going to do. You are going to pull your blouse up and tuck in your bra and then I’m going to place this towel here so we don’t get goop on you. Unless you want a gown?” As she’s saying this, she is shoving the towel under my bra and over my blouse.

“No.”

“Ok, now pull you pants down.”

I pull them down.

“NOT THAT FAR!!! NOT THAT FAR!!!” She is literally freaking out.

“WELL SHEESH YOU DIDN’T TELL ME HOW FAR NEXT TIME BE SPECIFIC!!!”

She chuckles a bit. “I warmed this up.” She squirts warm gel on my abdomen.

“Thank you.”

She continues to make small talk in between her explanations of what she’s looking at. I stopped listening. The brain has 3 different stages of memory. I learned this in my Differentiation and the Brain class at the university. Sensory, short term, and long term and the brain will not store anything in the long term memory if the information is not needed in the future. If the brain thinks there is a possibility of needing the information in the near future, it will store it in the short term memory bank. If the brain hasn’t used the stored information for a period of time, it clips the memory and therefore leaving room for new memories.

This conversation is clipped. Snip, snip.

The small talk in this room was not needed. My brain clipped that information 10 minutes ago. I laid there, staring at a white ceiling thinking about the cup of coffee in the car waiting for me. There should be a picture on the ceiling.

“Oh my goodness, look at this!”

My brain is paying attention now.

“You have a beautiful pancreas! Look at it, its perfect.”

Okay, that was a weird comment, you weirdo.

She gasps. “And look at your liver! Look how clear this is! You have such a beautiful liver! You’re very slender so your images are beautiful!”

Awkward….I’m feeling a little Silence of the Lambs here. This person is telling me my guts are beautiful. Don’t sit too close to the tech Robin…I swear I smell fava beans.

She gasps again.

“You have a playboy bunny!”

What the heck is going on HERE?!? Am I in the twilight zone?!?

I start to panic. I am either really tired, or so hungry my blood sugar has dropped too low. She turns the monitor to face me.

“Look at this! You have a playboy bunny! Isn’t that cool?”

Playboy Bunny Liver

I hesitated, then turned my head further, staring at the screen with this probe pushed hard, into my gut.

“Huh….Interesting.”

I wasn’t sure how to react. She continues to say how my guts are gorgeous and is pointing all these vessels out.

She has peaked my interest but it was more of a need to know basis, in case she was plotting something. Like harvesting my playboy liver. I wonder what a liver would go for these days. If she should attempt to pawn it.

My Doctor was looking for something specific but I hate to break it to her…it’s a playboy bunny. Not a gremlin. Not a miracle baby. A freaking rabbit.

I sighed. I am so hungry.

“Okay, all done.” She tosses a towel on my belly. “Wipe yourself up.”

Wow. I have a playboy bunny liver, shouldn’t she be wiping me up? I paid for this goop! I own this rabbit!

Nothing can clean this goop up. It just continuously smears everywhere. Ugh. I get dressed and she continues to make small talk, telling some pretty personal things about herself, for only meeting me 30 minutes ago. She then catches herself. “Oh my, I don’t know why I feel the need to tell you these things. You know a little more than you should.”

I’m nodding inside.

I slowly put my coat on keeping my eye on her.

“Are you going to get breakfast?” She asks.

“I brought my breakfast. I’ll eat it in the car.”

“Oooo what did you bring?”

It never ends. “Broccoli and bacon.”

She swiftly spins around. “That’s healthy! What’s your recipe?”

“Broccoli and bacon.” I repeated.

“That’s it? Just broccoli and bacon?”

“Broccoli and bacon.” For the third time lady, broccoli and freaking bacon.

“No wonder you’re so skinny!!!”

I roll my eyes.

She opens the door and is still talking as she walks me down the hall….still talking….out the double doors still running at the mouth.

She’s waving to me and saying goodbye as I walk the long hallway. How do I get myself in these bazaar situations? I need a reality check. I need coffee and need it now. The automatic doors swing open into the parking lot. I take in a big breath of cold air and pick up my pace.

There is my car…my coffee. I drive to work, completely zoning out what just happened, while munching on my broccoli and bacon.

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