I was feeling quite self-conscious while driving to my cardiologist appointment since the wicked burns from radiation had me going bra-less and therefore leaving my ladies out to roam free (okay, I was actually feeling naked!). As I was debating the ability of my dress to mask my new hippy freedom, my peripheral vision picked up on some odd simmering coming from below my steering wheel. A quick glance kicked me straight into mortification mode when I saw that not only had hair begun to take away the Bruce Willis follicly challenged look I had happening on my head, but that my legs were a forest of healthy growth as well. I was so excited to see hair growing on my shiny dome that I forgot that it would also grow back in other places!
The shock of my legs had me instantly looking in my rear view mirror for a full hair inspection only to find my lip glistening, my eyebrows were in need of a shape and horror of all horrors my nose needed excavating! I drove dumbstruck. I don't think I have ever been this hairy in my life! I had gone from being as hairless as a sphynx cat to resembling an escaped Sasquatch that was about to take on the city.
I rationalized myself out of my embarrassed haze by remembering that I was only going to the hospital for one appointment, then I could dart back home to deal with this surprise need to landscape. I mean honestly, no big deal, I didn't need to take myself so seriously. So I began breathing easier and had a quick laugh to myself as I wondered what was the worst thing that could happen?
Then, the Universe smiled at me and said, "challenge accepted."
I sat waiting patiently freezing in the Doctors office feeling grateful for the pasties I fashioned for myself under my dress, when the door opened to reveal to me that today I was getting the drop dead handsome cardiologist with a George Clooney smile and the only words my brain could put together were, “huminah, huminah, huminah”. Although grateful the drool stayed in my mouth and my lack of vocabulary remained in my head, I instantly flushed remembering how I had failed with flying colours my hair inspection on the drive in. Swiftly and with as much grace as I could muster, I bent my knees to hid my legs under the chair crossing my ankles in Royal Princess style thinking that I if couldn’t hide the escaping nose hair or wild eyebrows I could at least get my beastly legs out of sight.
Honestly, I was so distracted by his handsome face and stylish ways, that it didn’t even phase me when he told me that the ejection fraction of my heart was down another 4%. Instead I was more focused on exchanging witty repartee and mentally deciding whether to serve chicken or steak at our lakeside wedding... oh, or a build your own taco bar!!
I wonder if this is a new program at the hospital? When there is less then wonderful news to pass on to a patient, send in a visually delectable barer of bad news as a distraction. Worked for me!
I thought I was doing quite well keeping my composure, answering his questions with a modicum of intelligence, of course all while trying to see if he was wearing a wedding ring (which, sadly he was) until the unthinkable happened; without any warning, he bent over and began feeling around my ankles and then up my calves searching for any sign of internal swelling. The more he moved his hands around my razor sharp legs the more flabbergasted and paralyzed I became.
Really? He had to go for the legs? I'm sure that my neglected legs are at the bottom of his complaint list when dealing with patients, but for me, I wanted to shout, "but I'm wearing fresh clean underwear" to prove that I although I didn't shave I still follow proper ladylike protocol when visiting a hospital.
Walking back to my car shaking my head at myself, and honestly getting a really good laugh at this humbling moment where I fully expected Ashton Kutcher to pop out and do an excited touchdown dance, I wondered what lesson I was being taught. I mean, come on, there has to be some gem hidden within this punk'd moment?
But, there wasn't.
Sometimes an experience is just an experience and over analyzing can take away the fun of a Murphy’s law moment that is simply meant to be a great story. Let's be honest, God has a great sense of humour, and clearly, we both just needed a good laugh!