Today I underwent the required medical exam in preparation for Saudi. It was every bit as, uhm, up close and personal as I thought t would be. It was the sort of experience that normally begins with the participants agreeing on a "safety word." And the doctor didn't even buy me dinner first.
All this uncomfortable getting to know each other was also punctuated by one slightly scary interlude. After a chest x-ray I was told that there was a "spot" on one of my lungs, and that they wanted to take another film to be sure. Since both my father and grandfather died of cancer, this was a little unnerving, to say the least. So off I went, back to radiology. You'd be amazed how slowly fifteen minutes in the waiting area goes by when you're wondering whether you're going to spend the next year in the Middle East, or undergoing a course of chemotherapy. To their credit, the radiologists read the new x-ray right away. It wasn't a tumor. The spot had been caused by (get ready for it)... a nipple shadow.
A nipple shadow. I didn't even know there was such a thing. Sounds like what you'd see on Jessica Simpson's abdomen on a cold day. Yeah, I went there.
So one more step taken. Next up: getting the State Department to give me my damn passport. It's been six weeks since I sent in the renewal, and still nothing. Is it too much to ask that our bloated government bureaucracies be prompt?
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