When Gray Matter Matters

A few weeks ago, I was horrified to learn that I couldn't go online from my laptop. All my school mates were surfing, but I was stuck - my computer broken. I rushed home (rushing means waiting for the bus to come as fast as you can) and ran in the house to grab the car keys. No dinner for me, no library with the kids, no even speaking to the kids. I was off to the store where I purchased the computer to get it serviced.

I waited in line for 45 minutes, thinking (read: fuming) about what I would tell the serviceman only to reach him breathless. What's wrong with my computer, I gasped. He gave me this pathetic look, and told me. The Internet button was turned off. Now, there are probably other people in the world (just broadening the base) who have done the same thing, but not many. At first, I felt relief. Shortly thereafter, I felt stupid. I asked a few more questions, just to make the 45 minute wait worth my while, bought an umbrella, and quietly left the store.

It reminds me of the time I came home from the hospital with baby #5 to find the washing machine wasn't working. I called the repair man, impressed upon him the urgency of his coming to my house right away and when he got here, well, another stupid moment. The washing machine was unplugged. Come to think of it, I got the same pathetic look then too.

So is it any wonder that I felt the need for a C.T. Scan? Besides the optical migraines I get nearly every week, I just had to know if there's grey matter, besides my hair, in my head. So I asked the technician, Esther, after today's procedure, if indeed, she saw a brain in there. Laughingly, she assured me she had. I just hope she didn't say that to make me feel better.