Doctor HOT

Most pregos crave things like, triple layer chocolate brownie fudge cake.  Or Spicy Cheetos.  Or Doritos slathered in Cheez Whiz.  Or iodized salt, right from the shaker.  Not me.

I'm craving beer.  And not just any beer will do.  I want Blue Moon.  It's not fair God dammit.

So I decided to discuss the cruelty of this situation with  my Gynecologist.  Who, by the way, is the cutest little Indian woman that you will ever meet in your life.  She has a receding hairline, and is old enough to be my mom, but speaks to me like an equal.  I am sure that she silently prays that one day, I will find a birth control method that actually works.

Me:  Soooo, Dr.C, I'm really craving beer right now.  I can have one or two, right? (notice how I don't clarify per hour, per day, or per week). 

Dr.C:  One or two a week is okay.  You must be making a man in there. 

Confession:  I have already had a few beers during the course of this pregnancy.  But I wanted Dr.C's blessing.  And before you go casting stones, I gave up EVERYthing during my pregnancy with the twins, and THEY are my kids with learning challenges.  So  I view each pregnancy sort of like a science experiment now.

Me:  I'm painting right now.  That's okay, right?  It's NOT oil based paint.

Dr.C:  Yeah, yeah.  Just wear a mask if the fumes are bothering you.

See, this is what I LOOOOVE about my doctor.  She's just chill.  She doesn't freak out that I'm painting or drinking beer.  In fact, I bet if I told her I wanted to sky dive tomorrow, she would tandem jump with me, "just in case".

A lot of people dis Kaiser, but the truth of the matter is,  finding the right doctor is key.  And believe me, they have a list of like 1.000,000 to choose from.


In addition to seeing Dr.C that morning, I had another appointment scheduled as well.  With a different doctor.  A surgeon.  And man, is he easy on the eyes!  Let's call him Dr.Hawt.  Or Dr.Handsome.  Or HOLY SHIT!  You're MY doctor?!  Hells yes!    

You see, each subsequent pregnancy brings a new gift.  My first pregnancy left stretch marks that spared not one square inch of skin, leaving me looking like The Rainbow Fish.

 The second time around, I developed the "Mask of Pregnancy", which sort of left me looking like I needed to shave a 5 o'clock shadow, even though I am a WOman. 

My last pregnancy left me with my uterus being practically catapulted out of my body if I sneezed.  God forbid, if while writing a check one day for my groceries at Safeway, I cough.  "CLEAN UP AT CHECK STAND 5!  We've got a uterus on the floor!" I'm going to market a uterus hammock for women who have had 3 or more kids, I swear.

This time around, I have been the lucky recipient of yet another, pregnancy induced condition:  varicose veins the size of a Home Depot garden hose.  And Dr.Hottie, who is a vascular surgeon,  just happens to be the same man who took my dad's leg off.  So he agreed to examine my garden hose.

I will never forget the first time my dad introduced my brothers and I to Dr.Hot Stuff.  Up walked this rather tall, confident, but YOUNG man.  Like really YOUNG.  Like, does this guy even have his Driver's Permit yet? YOUNG. 


Really? I thought to myself.  You are a surgeon?!  Cause you look like maybe you just got off your shift from Orange Julius an hour ago. 

Fast forward ten years, and Dr.Anytime is the Right Time, is like extended family now.  He and my dad are buds.  The Silver Fox and my dad even went to Dr.Hottie's wedding.  Dr.Handsome's wife sold my folks house in Campbell.  Like I said, we're sort of like family. 

But I can't help but think sometimes...if I wasn't married...and he wasn't married...and I wasn't pregnant AGAIN with my husband's child...well, just maybe.  Sigh.

After having a rather detailed ultrasound of the garden hose, Dr. "I Think of Hugh Jackman, When I See You",  met with me in his office.

Me, in a frantic tone:  Everything's alright, RIGHT?

Dr.Hot:  Oh yes.  This is not a situation like your dad's was at all.  Do you mind if I take a look at the area?

Me:  Sure.  (mind you, "the area" is basically between my legs,  located just beneath my uterus hammock.  My only thought was, thank God I wore underwear.  But he's a doctor, so it was totally fine...still....)

Dr.Hot:  After you deliver, if you'd like to, I can remove that vein. 

Me:  Sounds good.  What about these?  (I say, referring to a patch of spider veins that have left that bottom part of my calf looking like someone has clubbed me with a bat)

Dr. Hot:  Those veins will most likely dissipate after delivery, but probably won't completely go away.  That is more of a cosmetic situation.

GOD DAMMIT!!!  This was the news I had feared.  In my mind, I was thinking, let's bang this all out at once.  If you're going to remove the garden hose, can't you just take care of those too?  And how about a boob lift and tummy tuck, while we're at it?  I'd also like to get my teeth whitened and a spray on tan.  COME ON!

My visit with Dr.Lovely ended with a hug, and a promise that I would tell my dad to call him soon.

I'll be honest, five hours spent at Kaiser on a spectacular sunny day is NOT my idea of a great time.  But it could of been worse.  Dr. C could have told me that beer is completely off limits.  And Dr.Hot Stuff could have never been born.  I mean, I can't complain. 

But when I do go back to have this garden hose removed, you better believe I'll be rocking a cocktail dress.

* No doctors were injured or hurt in any way during the creation of this blog.  For those of you who know Dr. Hot by his real name, he has politely asked to remain ANONYMOUS.  Hmmm...I wonder why.