Yesterday Sophie came up mid-play and told me she wanted to send a message to Germany.
"Mom, I need to say some stuff to Uncle Walt and Auntie Annie. You can hear it too, if you want."
So I got the video camera out and sat down, ready to capture whatever entertainment came forth. That's when she held up her hand and informed me, "Oh, wait, Mama! You probably should tell them my message, okay? I'm feeling nice and shy."
RIGHT! Shy. Good one! Sophie, honey, Mama is significantly less cute on camera. She's sporting her oh so attractive Ace bandage look again these days. Let's go with Operation Cuteness, rather than Operation Scare The Poo Outta The Internet.
I talked her out of her newfound camera shyness, and she started talking. Sort of. I'm still not completely sure WHAT she's saying at the beginning of this little gem of a message. Something about, as she picks her toes, "This is Kristin." (Huh?) "I want to do something...really nice...for all the people...over there." Or something mumbly and random like that.
Who knows?? But I do know she misses you guys tons! She talks about you often. And at fairly odd times. She told a lady in line at Target the other day, "These are my Hello Kitty bandaids. Walt and Annie are in Germany. I miss them, and I think I should live in Germany."
In other news: The nurse from Dr. Colonoscopy's office called this morning. I had thought (in my loopy haze) I'd remembered him saying "everything looked good" and that he had been able to see "pretty much everything". I remember him being fairly pleased (for a tight-lipped, anal guy who doesn't exhibit pleasure) that he had been able to see "really high up" into No Man's Land during the procedure. He actually smiled, that's how excited he was.
However, apparently, as hard as this is to imagine, he didn't see as much as he wanted to.
His nurse informed me today that now he wants me to do some wackadoo test that involves swallowing a camera (oh yes, you read that right). Swallowing a camera and wearing a back-pack for six hours while pictures of my innards are transmitted to some sort of receiver thingee that's strapped to my torso. (And then beamed up to E.T., who will interpret the results.) It seems there is a small section of the small intestine that is unreachable by the scope, and therefore, unviewable, from the top (via EGD) or from the bottom (via colonoscopy).
So now, it appears, this is the plan -- for me to ingest a camera, imbedded in a pill the size of Texas, to see if there is an explanation as to why I'm not absorbing vitamin D (despite being on mega doses for months and months) and why I am doing various other unmentionably nasty gastric things.
Kudos for modern medicine, but is this really the point we've reached? Digesting a camera?? EATING a camera. On purpose. While awake. ...Oh, and yes, the nurse thought she'd mention, there is a chance that the camera can get stuck in the small bowels. Stuck. LODGED. Wedgi-rific! And, yawn (she YAWNED), yes, it would then need to be surgically removed.
Oh, um. Okay. Ho hum.
Anyone else think participating in this project sounds the teeniest smidge nut buckets? Feel free to chime in with a hearty, Aggie-inspired "Hell, yes!"