As my luck would have it, the torrential rains ceased early this morning and I awoke to a quiet and very grey world. The weather remained relatively mild until I had my first appointment of the day: a meeting with the Insurance agent. Wouldn't you've guessed it, there was no parking near the office 'cept for a few stalls halfway down the block and then it starts to pour and I don't have my umbrella! The meeting went well and now Feda and I are covered under a flashy, new Renters' Insurance policy -- meaning we can buy replacement clothing and DVDs if some idiot breaks in and robs us or if a hurricane swooshes into Paradise Park, BUT not if the rains continue and a flood washes our belongings down into the ocean. Yep, flood coverage is a tricky loop that requires extra $$.
Second appointment of the day was a surprisingly unsettling diagnostic High Ultrasound scan of my right boob. According to my doctor there was a strange "thickening" that he wanted to diagnose. Ooohkay. I'd initially looked forward to the testing hoping to be able to ask the ultrasound tech exactly how the machine worked. Call it a mini-career search. Anyway, the test didn't worry me - even the thought that there was a remote chance something was wrong didn't worry me. Everything was completely okay until I had to wait in the exam room after the scan was done.
I sat there in the exam room with nothing but outdated Sunset magazines to read. The images that I saw on the monitor during the scan were meaningless shadows and blurry blobs of gray, white and black. I'd hoped to be able to maybe catch a glimpse of something recognizable and NOT catch a glimpse of something alien. I checked the monitor a couple more times and looked at the last image the technician saved - meaningless blurry clouds. ack! 20 minutes later the radiologist shows up and tells me that the scans look clean and that I need to start checking my boobs every month.
ME: Clean? woohoo! Wait a second -- hmmm, I thought my boob was fine except for the weird "thickening" that Dr. E wanted to check. Clean? Huh? What exactly would "dirty" mean?
Tomorrow I get to relate this rather odd experience to my Mum over lunch.