15 minutes = $30

[googly eye glasses that Grandma and Grandpa were handing out}

The first costume Zane picked out was a Tiger. It was sized for age 3-4. I didn't think to try it on him before we left the store. Because, well, he's size 3-4. A couple hours after we got home, he said he wanted to try it on. Well...we tried to put it on. I think the size was more like 24 months...it was a 1 piece "suit" and it was about 5 inches too short from going over his shoulders, and the legs were 4-5 inches too short as well. So the Halloween Store's policy...No Returns, No Exchanges, No Refunds.

Well, that is, unless you are me. Natch.

We went back to the store that night, about 4 hours after we purchased the Tiger costume, and I explained the situation. She hemmed and hawed a bit and then decided that as long as we pick something that is the same price or more we could exchange it.

YIPPEE.

So, we settled on the Thomas the Tank Engine costume, $30 - more expensive than the tiger. Again, natch.

He wore it for approximately 15 minutes tonight. We went to 2 houses in Adrian (Grandma and Grandpa Owens' neighborhood) and then he was done. He didn't even want to sit on the porch and hand out candy. He wanted to sit inside and play with his trucks/trains. He didn't even want to eat any candy.

Daddy is disappointed that he appears to have developed his mother's love (read: dislike) of Halloween.

FREE BREAST IMPLANTS!

Doctors. They're supposed to help, right? They are supposed to be healers. They are supposed to make us feel better. Right? Right???

Well, last week I noticed a wet spot on the cups of my bra. Nipple discharge.

After the fog cleared around me, I picked up the phone and called my Dr's office. I was able to get in first thing the next morning.

I arrived 10 minutes early (why do I always do that for Dr appointments, knowing damn well they will be late) and was under the impression I would see MY Dr. It wasn't until this obnoxious red haired bitch walked in that I realized I got in so quickly because I was seeing the Dr that was available.

Her ramped up demeanor, belittling attitude and obnoxious tone of voice had me retracting the instant she walked in. I told her why I was there, and that I had recently had a mammogram which said that the large (um, nearly the size of a tennis ball) cyst in my breast was perfectly normal...and now I have stains on my bra from discharge. I also told her that several people, including someone who HAS breast cancer right now that started with finding a "perfectly normal cyst", have recommended that I have the cyst biopsied. This is when she went off the deep end.

The attitude got even worse and she spoke to me as if my concerns and the concerns of other people were inconsequential. She told me I shouldn't take advice from anyone who isn't a "Dr" (complete with the finger "quotes"), and that the cyst is completely normal and I should think of it as a FREE BREAST IMPLANT and stop worrying! Yes! She said this to me. A female fucking doctor, talking to a freaked out patient who is convinced she has breast cancer! How inappropriate was that?

Anyway, my mind was whirling the entire time I was there. I wanted to ask her who the hell she thought she was. Or who she thought she was talking to. I wanted to tell her to leave the room and send in Dr. W. I wanted to PUMMEL HER.

She did refer me to a surgeon who could drain the cyst (for comfort sake) and told me that if I wanted to have it biopsied, to go ahead but she wouldn't refer me to anyone, and she ordered blood work to have the levels in my pituitary gland checked. If I have a tumor on my pituitary gland, that can cause nipple discharge. We'll see.

*the discharge could be any number of things: stimulation, from the pressing and squeezing of the mammogram, tumor on the pituitary gland, etc...