All that worrying for nothing... kind of!

Well, after many sleepless nights, chewed nails, and over eating, I finally had my Dr's appointment with the specialist. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I was so nervous about my appointment that I went as far as poking my neck with random sharp objects, just to get used to the sensation. Pen... perfect. Knitting needle... sure. Q-tip... I can handle this. Mom picked me up and we sat in the hospital waiting room for 45 minutes before I was finally called. Once I was called, I spent yet another 15 minutes sitting in the exam room. It gave me just enough time to make sure my ears and nose were clean, air out my armpits, and examine the equipment that could potentially be shoved into my body. Finally, the doctor walks in and we briefly discuss my medical history, as well as my family's. He feels my neck and ask me how I found it. "Well doctor... I didn't exactly find it." I had a wink ready in case he didn't get it, but I didn't need to use it. He told me that he wasn't very concerned about it and that it could have been there since I was hospitalized when I was 18 years old for strep throat, mono, and tonsillitis all at the same time. He told me that he could set up an MRI if it would make me feel better. I figured, after all of the worrying I've caused, I better get some closure, if not for me, for my loved ones, and agreed to the MRI. I thought I was off the hook at that point, but I was wrong. SO WRONG! He proceeded to tilt my head back and shove medicated cotton up my nose. I'm not talking about an inch up my nose... I'm talking 'Oh my God, I can feel that in my brain' up my nose. He says, "I'll be back in 5 minutes" and leaves the room. Moments later, a nurse wheels in a table with a very scary mechanism on it. It is a scope with a hose that's literally 2 feet long, attached to it. I seriously almost pulled the cotton from my nose and left the building, but decided to be a big girl and bite the bullet. He came back in, removed the cotton from my nose, and began inserting the scope into my nose. I just about vomited. "Your adenoids look normal", he said. "Good" I muttered, secretly wanting to kick him in HIS adenoids! Once the scope was removed from my poor nostril, I quickly gathered my purse, as to avoid any further procedures. I wanted so badly to say, "You could have at least bought me dinner first!" but he wasn't that kind of doctor. At all. I'm so relieved that it's probably nothing. OH! And to top off the day, I called the dealership to check on my car (it wouldn't start yesterday morning, so I had it towed), and the service manager told me that he'd love to tell me that something was wrong with it because that's how they make their money, but that it was completely fine and started every time they tried! YIPPY!! Whenever things like that happen, Lori and I say, "Thank you, Dod!" It's a combination of Dad and God, looking out for us. : )