WON'T ANYBODY HELP ME?

Yesterday, somewhere in the bread aisle at Wal-Mart, I'm pretty sure my uterus fell out.

But that's ok. I don't need it anymore. I have no intention of birthing any more babies, and it's been nothing but trouble for me for quite some time now. I fully intend to speak to my doctor about this; because, somehow, it is his fault.

Anyway back to Wal-Mart; the previous two nights had been really bad, as I had lain awake much of the night in extreme pain. You know? Because I'm a woman.

The first night, I actually started calculating whether or not a "fall" out of my second story window would be bad enough to knock my uterus out but still allow me to get up and walk away so I could continue raising my children. But then I realized I'd probably just land in a pile of dog poop and that would not do anything to improve my mood. Plus, my day lillies and hostas are really looking good right now and I'd hate to ruin what little beauty I've managed to attain in my yard, on the off chance I landed in them. Plus, I can never get our bedroom blinds pulled up right, so I'd probably just end up tangled in the slats and strings of the blinds and my husband wouldn't even notice when he woke up the next morning.

So I just fell asleep doing the breathing exercises I learned in childbirth classes many MANY years ago.

The second night I decided the pain was so bad I was probably going to wake up with a newborn suckling at my breast.

Well wouldn't that just be GREAT if I was one of those women who gave birth without knowing she was pregnant!? I'd be on the news; and since we all know the camera adds ten pounds, that thought didn't do much to improve my mood either.

Then, on that second night, I decided to wake my husband for some help.

*nudge, nudge*

"Honey, tell the nurse I'm ready for my epidural."

But that didn't work. He just sat up and stared at me with haunting glassy eyes. He's not good in middle-of-the-night emergencies.

Fine, I'll take care of this myself.

So I went downstairs and got on the phone.

*Ring. Ring*

Labor and Delivery, may I help you?

Uh, yes, I'd like my epidural now, please.

What room are you in ma'am?

Um...my kitchen.

You're giving birth at home....?

Oh Lord No. I'm not giving birth. I'm just having really bad cramps so I'd like an epidural. Do you deliver? Well of course you deliver, you're a labor nurse *ha, ha*. I mean, do you deliver epidurals?

Ma'am epidurals are for women who are in labor?

But...but...I'm in just as much pain as I was when I was in labor.

Ma'am you're not even a patient here.

But I'm in just as much pain as any of your current patients, probably more because many of them have probably had their epidurals.

Ma'am this is ridiculous. You do not qualify for an epidural. You are not in labor and you are not a patient here.

Let me get this straight. I've given birth twice at your hospital, had numerous x-rays, scans, -grams, and tests. My children have had numerous x-rays, scans, -grams, and tests. My son had surgery twice when he broke his finger. Of course it was broken for two weeks before he had his surgery, which would make some say I'm a bad mother. Do you think I'm a bad mother?

Ma'am my thoughts on your mothering are irrelevant, although I'm beginning to form an opinion...

Anyway, I've had all those things done at YOUR hospital and now I can't get one small pain killing measure when I need one. I'm a good customer. All I want is a small epidural to go. Hello? Hello....?



*Ring Ring*

Surgical Services. May I help you?

Yes, I'd like to come in, like, right now for a hysterectomy.

Do you have a referral.

Um...yeah, my uterus is referring me loud and clear. Hello? Hello...

*Ring Ring*

Neurology. May I help you?

Yes, I'd like to schedule a lobotomy, please....