B & I really like Dr. Smith. He (Barbarosa) is coming around on the idea that Dr. Smith is the positive version of someone else we know. Dr. Smith comes booming into the room every visit "So!!" He booms, "I hear you got yourself knocked up!" Somehow, though we've heard it a million times (it's our own private joke as well), when Dr. Smith barges in announcing himself like that, it cracks me up! He bustles around telling us stories of his Days of Yore and cracking jokes about "Frick" and "Frack" as he calls the Babes and my inability to not be pregnant. Hah hah hah hah.
Then, as suddenly as he enters, he leaves with, "Put your shoes on and we'll talk!"
The Babes, he reports, are doing fine. I'm growing. According to the nurse's eyeballing, I measure the same as a woman who's 35 weeks pregnant would. I'm only 23 weeks pregnant. No wonder my back hurts so badly! My stats are good.
We will go in on Monday the 2nd for the Dreaded Gestational Diabetes Test. A neighborhood friend of mine said she was borderline for hers. I'm a little terrified of mine. Heavens knows, I don't want to be on Bed Rest AND have "The Diabetis" as a sister-in-law calls it. But the biggest part of our visit (besides our "Definition of the Day" [mixed emotions]), was that Dr. Smith is going to move up my bed rest by almost 3 weeks. I'm going on bed rest at the very start of November. He told me to go ahead and tell my professor that I'm done with class, to quit work (hah hah hah) and grab a ton of books from the Library, 'cause I'm done. So, November 1st-ISH will be when I get sent to bed.
Please come visit me.
I'll come visit you while you're on bed rest!
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