The Incredible, Spectacular, Fantastic... Me. And my Super Friends.

This week I am not losing weight and it's depressing.  I know it's probably because I lost 3 pounds last week and so this is probably just a little blip, a "week off" of progress, but my brain is still a crazy person, and it's screaming.  It sounds something like OMGOMGOMGIT'SOVERANDYOU'RENEVERGOINGTOLOSEANOTHERPOUNDAGAINANDTHATLASTPICTUREWITHTHEPOOCHYBELLYISGOINGTOBETHESAMEPOOCHYBELLYYOUHAVEUNTILYOUGETTHEDIABEATISANDDIEYOUBIGFATSADSACK!!!

5 points if you read that.  10 if you found the reference to our favorite insane commercial Diabetes spokesperson.

But never mind.  Being overweight is not the point of today.  Because tomorrow, I'm undergoing treatment to become a superhero.  Or a super villain, jury's still out.  Since my ultrasound tests all found my body unremarkable, which in medical language means good, but in real life still hurt my feelings a little bit, they've decided to send me in for... dum dum duuuum... fuuuurther teeesting.  (Pretend like those last two words were delivered in a creepy, haunting voice, maybe into a megaphone.)  

The next test on the docket is called a HIDA scan.  Which sounds fun, right?  Like maybe they're going to check out my gallbladder using the famed Peekaboo Procedure.  I foooouuuund you little Gallbladder!  Who's a silly little Gallbladder?  That's right!  You're a silly litt...

But apparently it's not that.  Apparently, I have to go to the hospital (read: not the Doctor's office, the hospital, where people go to die and stuff) and put on a gown, and then they inject radioactive material into my blood and take pictures to see what happens.  I read an article outlining the procedure to my husband, and put lots of really loud emphasis on things like RADIOACTIVE MATERIAL and FLUSH TWICE AFTER YOU PEE FOR A COUPLE OF DAYS BECAUSE OF THE RADIOACTIVE MATERIAL.  

Husband paused me in the middle of my read and said, incredulously, "You think you're gonna become the Hulk, don't you?!?"  

Me: Yes I do, thankyouverymuch, because I'm NOT an idiot.  I know how these stories always end, and if it's not The Hulk, it's a post-bombing Nagasaki situation and I'm not really interested in either, if I'm being completely honest here.

Anyway, so that's what's happening now.  I'm a little bit terrified, but the doctor keeps trying to convince me that it's totally okay to inject yourself with radiation, and that the fact that it has to happen at the hospital shouldn't concern a person at all.  Ah well.  It'll be pretty exciting to see my pee glow like a night light, so... there's that.  

So long folks, here's hoping that all goes well, and that I can stop feeling like a Poo-Burger 100% of the days of my life.  Also, that if I get superpowers, they include flying or telekinesis and that I'm the type of superhero that looks super sexy in a unitard!!