June 26, 2009

Because I am CLassy Like That

Dear Men,
Please go away today. THANKS. I LOVE you guys, you know I do, but this is a lady post for ladies. Love you! Come back tomorrow! I will discuss FISHING! Or Boobs! All that stuff you like. But not today.
Shoo,
Joshilyn

Dear Commenting Best Beloveds,
Please, Tread carefully! Speak gently, and strictly in euphemisms. You know, for all I write some ....let’s say, VISCERAL, shall we? VISCERAL books, (and some might say GRAPHIC. Some might even say EXPLICIT. Some might even say GRATUITOUS but I sniff disparagingly at Those Particular Somes and say, “I had my reasons...”) Even so, I am personally quite prudish. I feel this post is borderline, but I am erring on the side of RISK and *cough* PUBLIC SERVICE, so I am ditching propriety.
With pursed mouth and a total willingness to disappear comments,
Sister Mary Evangeline Joshilyn

Dear Little Children,
Go away! Come back in 5 to 15 years, when you are a teenager or a grown up person. If you wandered in by accident, let me suggest you go HERE instead. You will like it.
Love,
Miss Joss, Former VBS Recreation Director and Veteran Sunday School Teacher

OKAY SO...I sent the following email to several friends:

Hey Ya’lls, Do you think I can blog this or is it too risqué and maybe oversharing:

You know how I call all doctors The Vet, right? People look at me so funny when I say, “Maisy has a tummy ache, I think we have to take her to the vet,” but it is habit now. The whole family does this – except Scott. Also, the kids and I call our plumber toilet man. And we call the man who came today to give us the first estimate for replacing the dead AC The Expensive Unswelterator. Scott calls them Dr. Lastname, KEVIN, and PAUL, respectively. And, he says, respectfully. He is trying to get me to STOP with the wiggetty whack job titles in lieu of, you know, actually learning people’s names. Today we had this conversation:

Scott: You need to call your doctor about getting the final stitches out of your tongue.

Me: Blerg. I hate going to the tongue vet.

Scott: You mean you hate going to DOCTOR JOHNSTON. You need to go, though, honey. And if you can call about Sam’s laser tag night with Youth Group, I will do all the follow-up calls about the AC.

Me: Okay sounds good. OH HEY, you know what? It is summer. I should also call the Cooter Vet to schedule a check-up and a mammogram.

Scott: ...did you just say, THE COOTER VET?

Me: WHOOPS, um ...Maybe? No. Surely not. I deny everything.

Scott: Good LORD, woman. Suddenly, Toilet Man seems like a GREAT job title.

MY FAVORITE RESPONSE to “Can I blog this” was from Anonymous Friend. She said:

Yes, you can blog it. I hate the CV though. I had to see mine last week. I refer to my appointment rather obliquely by quoting "Goosey, goosey gander, whither do you wander" (upstairs, downstairs, in my lady's chamber).

Did you know that Injection Nurse is an actual job title??”

Holy non sequitur, Batman! But SUCH a welcome subject change. Now I am asking, DID you know Injection Nurse is an actual job title? I am horrified beyond all imaginings.

And now, I justify my tacky blog entry and lack of discretion! Pay no attention to the little man behind the curtain...watch instead my waving hands as I turn what could have been a SERIOUS breach of propriety into a public service announcement:

I only REALLY posted this risqué overshare to, uh, ENCOURAGE all ladies over 40 to call YOUR CV and schedule a mammogram! It is the right thing to do. If you are in your thirties, a baseline mammogram taken NOW can really help a tech spot changes EARLY, and early detection = WIN. CALL TODAY!

Peace out.

Posted by joshilyn at June 26, 2009 11:30 AM
Comments

That is awesome, I may steal it.

Posted by: Katie at June 26, 2009 11:43 AM

Absolutely awesome! Clearly, you win the Internets.

Posted by: KarinNH at June 26, 2009 12:09 PM

I can't decide which made me laugh harder, CV or goosey goosey gander.

I saw my CV just yesterday. He said my squishing was optional this year. I may schedule anyway, just because this post was so funny, why ruin it by not taking your advice?

Off to phone the squishers...

Posted by: Marla at June 26, 2009 12:31 PM

Ugh, I am 8 months pregnant and have practically taken up residence in my CV's office. Speaking of CV's and nicknames and such, many many years ago when I was in utero, my parents used to say that little goose/gander rhyme for some unknown reason which resulted in me being called goose and/or gander and/or some variation thereof to this day. (The fact that a gander is a MALE goose has not deterred this at all.)

Posted by: Jessica at June 26, 2009 12:32 PM

I had a follow-up mammogram today. They only squashed one side 'cause I have a "stable anomaly" that needs checking. Lucky me; I have to get squoozed every 6 months for a while to make sure it stays stable and non-threatening. At least they call me to remind me--guess that's one perk to being abby-normal. I may program the phone to say CV under their number: at least it will make me laugh...

Posted by: Jen at June 26, 2009 12:34 PM

I LOVE the CV -- I wonder if my new CV has the sense of humor to enjoy that?

I'm going to join you on your little soap box here - if you are under 40 and if you have anyone in your family who has had breast cancer (even if it's your 2nd cousin once removed), demand that your CV refer you to the squoosher ASAP. Baseline at 35 is great, but younger if there is any breast cancer in the family is even more helpful. And the closer the blood relation, the earlier you should get squooshed.

Stepping down from the soap box... my first squooshing was last summer and the tech was wearing scrubs with rubber duckies on them. Kept me giggling enough to distract me :-)

Posted by: Beth R at June 26, 2009 12:50 PM

I absolutely agree with Beth R! Get your baseline early! Even if you have to pay for the whole thing! And sometimes Breast Cancer centers will give free smash-o-grams in your birth month. I had my baseline at 34, discovered cancer, went thru months of surgery, chemo & radiation and am now 11 years cancer free. If I had waited until I was 40, I probably wouldn't be here typing this. And no relatives with early BC in my family! My daughter will get her baseline at 30.
And by the way, CV...very funny! So what does that mean the CVS (pharmacy)initials stand for? Hee.

Posted by: Kathy at June 26, 2009 1:23 PM

I like CV better than what my husband calls it-- the boob and lube. Eeeggads.

And I am equally shocked to learn that Injection Nurse is a real job title. Might as well re-name him/ her Nurse Hatchett.

Posted by: chandler at June 26, 2009 1:57 PM

COOTER VET!!! I love it. I had my first mammo 2 days after turning 40 and was promptly referred for a biopsy, which praise the gods was negative/normal/sore for a week.

COOTER VET!!! I think I need to make this my new battlecry in WoW.

Posted by: inkgrrl at June 26, 2009 2:05 PM

Injection nurses work in injection clinics, of course.

It's so much better to give than to get.

Posted by: Gwen at June 26, 2009 2:25 PM

Cooter Vet! Hee. I about rolled off my chair laughing. I may have a 12 year old boy lurking
in me.

Posted by: Michelle at June 26, 2009 2:42 PM

True story horrifying to my husband only. As a cancer survivor who has to regularly get my "lady" parts checked my hubby came back to talk to Dr. with me. Dr. decided to start the exam while husband was casually talking to him. Once husband realized what was happening he frantically searched for another place to look in the room and settled upon... yup, the pictures of how to do a self breast exam. Then turned to a biopsy table. Poor guy finally just stood there with his eyes closed.
He does NOT go back with me now, ever, even if it just an office consult. :)
I think calling the Dr. the CV might just push him over the edge. Thanks for the laugh!

Posted by: Tequila Cookie Chris at June 26, 2009 2:50 PM

Cooter Vet!! That is wonderful. You just made my day.

Posted by: edj at June 26, 2009 6:17 PM

Does that make the person who reads the mammogram the "hooter vet"?

Posted by: Laird at June 26, 2009 6:50 PM

I was all but rolling on the floor until I got to Laird's comment. Then I hit the floor.

There was a magazine (probably still is), don't remember which one, that had a page called "Was My Face Red." I'll never forget the story of the woman who had an appointment with the CV and was running late. Rather than her usual full shower, she grabbed the washcloth on the counter and managed a quick "freshening." During the appointment, the CV commented that she'd obviously made some effort before the appointment. She was annoyed that he would comment on it, but confirmed that she had. When she got home, her teenage daughter asked, "Mom, where's my glitter? It was in the washcloth in the bathroom."

Posted by: Sandi at June 26, 2009 7:42 PM

I think CV is to the blog world what vuh-jay-ay was to Grey's anatomy watchers. And I'm FAR more risque and inappropriate than you, 'cause I TOTALLY thought the whole post had to do with Scott wanting thos pesky stitches out of your tongue. Feel free to delete my comment.

Posted by: Roxanne at June 26, 2009 8:17 PM

I can't even make a sleazy comment. . .that was vuh-jay-Jay.

Posted by: Roxanne at June 26, 2009 8:19 PM

I'm not wild about the "cooter vet" name myself, but I love "tongue vet". And I think saying I have to go to the tooth vet might make me less uneasy about getting that crown put in next week.

Posted by: ccr in MA at June 26, 2009 8:30 PM

I was already laughing at your promise to the men that you will talk about "fishing and BOOBS and all that stuff you like" next time.

You might also want to point out to your husband that your creativity with names such as "expensive unswelterator" is important to your work as a writer and thus should never be discouraged!

Posted by: Michelle at June 26, 2009 10:20 PM

Actually, Lillian and I say we have to go to the "Sandwich Shop". Because they put those two hard things on either side and make a boob sandwich.

But oh how I love the CV name! Not, y'know, the actual practice (yay for being spayed!), but the name rocks!

Posted by: Fran at June 27, 2009 12:24 AM

I agree that Cooter Vet is about the funniest thing I've heard in a long time.

And I was just at my CV last Monday! Yay for annual checkups!

Posted by: Erin at June 27, 2009 8:40 AM

OMG - I have never laughed so hard! Cooter Vet! I will have to let my sis know about this one too...

Posted by: Nicole in WI at June 27, 2009 9:57 AM

Cooter Vet - priceless...and I may steal that one.

Great public service announcement.

Posted by: Cele at June 27, 2009 12:09 PM

Cooter Vet--no wonder you are a best-selling novelist when you can think up terms like that!

Posted by: Alison at June 27, 2009 12:56 PM

Um, I think I need a definition for the word Cooter. I've never heard it up here in The Canada. ;)

Posted by: Heather Cook at June 27, 2009 2:05 PM

Urg-I have to see the CV next month. He will schedule my mammogram - my SECOND ONE as I am old now - practically senile and osteoporotic.

Laughing, laughing now, and I will ALWAYS call my OB the Cooter Vet from here on out.

Posted by: Anna Marie at June 27, 2009 2:15 PM

Every time I get a mammogram, I can't help but remember that old viral email about "how to prepare for a mammogram" that suggests getting down on the garage floor behind the back wheel of the car and having someone every so gently roll the tires....well, you get the picture. It is NOT NEARLY that awful in real life but a part of me is always half giggling about that during the procedure.

Also, this year? My mammogram technician and I had a long involved conversation about the growing of tomatoes...while she was arranging my personal tomatoes on the machine. It was really quite...odd.

Posted by: Melinda at June 27, 2009 2:45 PM

Joss, since you mentioned it: Were you a nun at a Duluth, Minnesota, private school some years back? There's a picture on the wall of said school with a nun who looks exactly like you. I always think of you when I see the picture, and when you did your nun impression above, I just couldn't resist this comment.

Also, I need to steal the "Goosey, goosey, gander..." simply because it is such an awesome pun!

Posted by: jess at June 27, 2009 9:52 PM

Cooter Vet!! CV!!! I was allll-most on the floor, until I read "boob and lube." My neighbors are probably annoyed at the amount of snorting coming from in here.

With so many Peeps, I know you have probably not noted my absence, but I have been officially DEMORALIZED. And, therefore, hiding under the bed. I went to a doctor (NOT about my weight, or eating habits; about a SLEEP issue!!!) and he asked me "are you happy with your current weight?" Naturally, I said no, and began to explain the BetterU program, my goals, what I have been doing, etc, etc, INCLUDING how I have lost 11 pounds and 4.5 inches (overall). He interrupted me to inform that I was NOT in a SUPERVISED program (and therefore a very inferior one), then gave me a quick up-and-down with a jaundiced fisheye, and said, "I recommend that you see a nutritionist, because obviously what you are doing is not working."

Chicken biscuit? Oh, #%&*@# NO!!!

Pizza and chicken wings, anyone? Since 11 pounds and 4.5 inches is FAILURE, and I lack the nerve to point at a man with an M.D. behind his name with the BAD finger, I have been taking my anger out on myself in the form of carbs and fried proteins.

After catching up on your blog, tho, I feel less sad. Mean Doctor is a doody head!!!

Thank you. And you're right, I should get my squish test. Even though I always make bad jokes and get giggling during it.

Jennifer

Posted by: JMixx at June 27, 2009 10:43 PM

A dear friend of mine refers to her annual ladybits appt. as her "date with the duck lips," referring, of course, to the shape of the speculum.

And CV is funny, but Expensive Unswelterer is pure, unadulterated genius!

Posted by: Jessica at June 28, 2009 2:11 AM

I love when the comments only seem to increase the hilarity of the original post! Though I'm used enough to the squishing by now that I was waiting and waiting on the oversharing part, then was like "Oh, THAT was it".

Then again, I grew up in a family where NO subject, no matter how disgusting, crude or personal, was verboten at the dinner table. ;-)

Posted by: Brigitte at June 28, 2009 6:52 AM

So I got my first squishing in a MOBIL - as in moving- squisher in the parking lot of the school where I teach. To say the least it was VERY awkward to have to climb on out of it and head back to class... TOO OUT OF BODY to EVER do that again.

PS - I LOVE the term Cooter Vet! And while we are on the subject - did you say stiches in your tounge?

Posted by: Les at June 29, 2009 2:54 AM

Reading this in an office full of people and trying to laugh very hard and very silently. With an occasional snort out loud. Cooter Vet. Priceless . . .

Posted by: Gail at June 29, 2009 1:08 PM

That's awesome...
It reminds me of the time my dad and I were on our way to New Orleans and we stopped in a town called Cooter...many jokes happened...many nasty jokes. Particularly about how priceless it was that the town was surrounded by cotton fields...

Posted by: Elise at June 29, 2009 1:29 PM

Cooter vet. hahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Posted by: Amanda of Shamelessly Sassy at July 6, 2009 2:29 AM