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A whole weekend? Uggh. Unsolicited suggestion: call 'em up an hour or so before the office closes and ask. Beg, cajole, wheedle, whine, be as cute as necessary to get them to find out for you.

In the meantime, I'm wishing you motherhood, no matter what route said motherhood takes. You're going to be so good at it, you know?


this monkey has not gone to heaven. hang in there and ROCK ON.


I missed the Pixies, and for no good reason. Our most cynical rock writer was so gushy and thrilled, I thought he must have been clubbed over the head. So jealous!


I have been subject to that weekend wait myself. It's truly awful, so I just wanted to say, I guess, that I sympathize and know exactly how you feel.

Worth a try per Shelley's suggestion to call an hour before closing.


this might be a good weekend to get ALL your shopping done. Good luck.


Fuck waiting. I say pester 'em for answers.


I'm with Shelley.

So what if you call them and bug them for some answers? What are they gonna do, bill you for some ultrasound you never had? Oh, wait . . .

I'll be refreshing until we hear the news. We're thinking of you!

Anna H.

Fuck! The whole weekend??

I'm with the others -- call!

Will be furiously refreshing all afternoon...



I would say... "Unbelievable!" ...except that I have had the whole, wait till next day for the courier, then the lab takes two days, then the doc's office is closed on Wednesdays, please call back in a month for your results because we won't call you thing.
EEEEEPing with you and still NBHHY, well, except for the waiting that's sort of B.
Have fun at the show.


Oh, I am SO SORRY that they're asking you to wait the whole frickin' weekend! That just absolutely SUCKS. Do they not understand what that feels like to wait a whole weekend to get these kinds of results?!? Obviously they don't, or they would never, EVER torture someone like that.

I agree with whomever said that you should pester them for an answer today. Bug 'em to DEATH, I say! But only if that won't work you into an absolute tizzy.

Thinking of you and hoping that everything is o.k. ...


What could be more punk rock than miscarrying into my ratty underpants during "Into the White"?

Okay, see, I am hoping you're not quite that hardcore, my friend.

You should know that when my sources text messaged me your news while I was in the hospital, I let out an EEEEEEEEEEP so mighty that every patient on the entire surgical floor shuddered and rocked as if they'd just been delivered a surprise bonus enema.

And that's an awful lot of enema.


A whole weekend, huh? Nope, couldn't handle that one. I'm the pain in the ass that hounds them and they hate me. They get even with me by giving me Barbie's Little Sister -- Skipper, the untrained phlembotomist. Suck ass little bitch that she is, and she always blames me for having small veins, not that she is an incompentent cow.

You know I was thinking it might be kind of fun to go into all my useless doctor's offices and sign in and then leave. Oh the fun, the joy, the pandemonium (kind of like Butters on South Park and his mayhem producing alter ego.)

Wishing you lots of luck. Thinking of you.

Brooklyn Girl

EEEEEP!!!!!!! I'm sorry, but it's just wrong to even suggest you should have to wait all weekend.


Jesus, isn't there someone we can call??


This just sucks. I am so sorry you have to wait. (((HUGS))) and sticky vibes and I hope you're pregnant, too.


Fuck, fuck. I've said the F word so much today it's like the only thing I can say now. I can't believe all weekend. That sucks so long and hard. My friend, I hope. YOu know.


Damn it. If there was someone I could call, I'd be calling.

Thinking of you girlie. Letting out long EEEPs on your behalf.


Rah rah EEEEEEE(P)!

Kick 'em in the knee.


You know, Ms. Manners really fucked up when she forgot to put in a section about "where one should miscarry." Here's hoping, and praying, and rendering burnt offerings, that you don't have to find out this time around.


Omens! Yes! You see, the nurse called you June because you will soon be a mother in the mold of Mrs. Cleaver, your tattoos discreetly veiled behind a starched white apron. Right?

Just how badly did you beat your Hope Addict, Jo? I don't see any sign of her. Just stay away from mine, okay? We're over here lighting candles for you.


Perhaps if the tiny embryo accompanies you to the Pixies show, it will be overwhelmed with what a kick ass punk rock mama you are and be compelled to stay and meet you for real. XO


Want me to come over and bitchslap the phleb? Make them fess up the results? BASTARDOS! That is infuriating. They should teach a class in med school: "Why test results must be STAT! ALWAYS!"

Otherwise, I am seething with jealousy that you have tickets to the Pixies. They sold out here before I could get any. I heart them so.


Just as an aside: this past summer, sometime in the middle of the 372 bleedings I was enduring, it occurred to me that if I have the right to decline a phlebotomist if I have good reasons to believe that s/he is incompetent--or really without any reason at all. That's helped me a bit.


Lurker here. I keep refreshing your blog, not believing that the bastards would be so mean to not share the results until Monday. I am using the chicken bones to keep bad things away (though what am I actually supposed to do with the chicken bones?).


Weekend-long waits SUCK ASS.

In my town, you can buy anything other than a car or alcohol on a Sunday. You can get alcohol in a bar, but you can't buy whiskey in a bottle and take it home with you unless you're willing to drive to Wisconsin. We even have a 24-hour, 365-day-per-year POST OFFICE so that if you get the urge to send postcards to all your friends on Christmas Morning, you can do so.

So why the MOTHERFUCKING HELL aren't more medical facilities open on weekends?

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