The more sick I get, the more afraid of live animals I become. It makes very little sense. I suppose that illness makes me more vulnerable, and moving animals are another sign that I don’t have the control over my life that I want. But, like I said, it defies logic most of the time.

Therefore, do not take me to the zoo. Do not bring over your pet to cheer me up. If you take me on a date (or are just generally with me), please position yourself between me and that dog over there (even if it looks like it’s really far away.) And, please, please, please. Do not attempt to recruit me for Paws for a Cause or Pawsitive Outreach.

With that being said, I still love animals. It’s just their motion that unsettles me. (It defies logic, remember?) So this post could also be titled: “The Post in Which Milton Visits the Hospital.” Allow me to explain.

For my birthday, Tabitha purchased this cute & cuddly chocolate bunny featured earlier on the blog. I named him “Milton” after Milton Hershey, the American inventor of the chocolate bar.

Eeyore has been with me on many adventures. He’s toured the country by plane and by car. He’s spent the night in the hospital when I did my sleep study. But he’s pretty big. And, if I don’t want people to think that I’m twelve (which they inevitably do), I can’t really bring Eeyore with me to every doctor’s appointment.

Enter Milton. Milton is smaller. Milton fits in my purse and my bookbags. He’s snuck into a lot of doctor’s appointments and imaging studies that way. And today, he came with me to the hospital.

I needed someone to hold my hand during the imaging study. But (for a long list of reasons I won’t list here) I didn’t ask anyone to come with me. Mostly I was too scared or embarrassed. Milton is not intimidated by anything. And there’s no rule that you can’t bring your stuffed animal with you to an ultrasound or an X-ray or whatever.

So Milton was there for me. He sat on the hospital bed. He watched the tech get prepared for the imaging study. He kept me company while she consulted the radiologist to make sure they obtained sufficient images. He heard the radiologist say something about the images of “the little girl” and was insulted on my behalf. And Milton witnessed that I came home, in one piece.

Weird? Or just another day in the life? You decide.


8 thoughts on “Weirdest Thing about My Health


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