I can see my husband demanding to use the fat calipers on me, though he'd phrase it because he's passionately interested in my health and he needs this information. I can also see a big fight when I refuse.

Fat calipers.

Fat calipers.

FAT CALIPERS??

You should take them and measure his fat head.

Agreed with everyone on the insanity of the fat calipers. DH needs some schooling on womenfolk.

Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS? Take out a ruler and tell him you need to measure his dick.

Or, y'know, not.

Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS?! I ... nope, no words, just blinking (and angry on your behalf) confusion.

Kara's been wanting a bunny. She's getting one. It's about a half inch tall with a bobble head.

Kara wants a bunny, huh? Clovis just waggled his ears in glee, so I think he's plotting something.

All of you suffering Cramps O' Doom have my sympathy, and I wish I could send you all a box of Feminax. (The UK version of Midol, which blessedly contains codeine.) Mind you, I almost think I'd rather have Cramps O' Doom instead of the crying meltdown I had last night. I suspect the hormonal mood-swings are getting worse.

Upon further reflection on the Great Fat Calipers Fiasco of 2006, I feel Raq's DH requires a warning of things not to say.

Things Raq's DH Should Not Say To Her

"Honey, can you count the lines around your eyes? We've got new imaging software at work and I want to see what you'll look like in five years."

"Oh never mind about that line count. I took a picture of you in harsh unflattering light with the high def camera while you were sleeping and I've forwarded it to my secretary. She'll count the lines for you and then forward it to the lab."

"Wow, that haircut was a real mistake, huh?"

"Is your painful and debilitating crotch ailment fixed yet? My sexual needs haven't been met lately."

"Do we really need to pack up all these old beautiful dresses for the move? Are you really ever going to be able to fit into them again?"

"Hey, remember when you were cute? I was just reminded because I'm going to be judging a wet t-shirt contest after work."

That list could also be conveniently labeled, "Things Over Which Murder Would Seem Perfectly Logical."

Hec reminded me of what a friend of mine's now ex-husband once said to her after she asked him what he was looking at:

Just noticing how you've aged.

Left a message for my neuro specialist. Waiting for a call back. I'll have to go in to see her and she'll look at the MRI and give me a number to call for a surgeon.

Cash, PLEASE let me know if I can do anything at all for you.

I swear to you that even though it's surgery, and therefore invasive and kinda major, it's going to be a godsend. And recovery will really not be that bad. Hell, it's entirely possible that your surgery would be outpatient, performed endoscopically. (Which would make me massively jealous while still thrilled for you.)

And the fact that you're in Columbus is excellent, because OSU Med Center is not too shabby, and IIRC, OrthoNeuro is up there, too, and they're also very good in the back-fixing area.

I don't want this to sound trite, but -- I *know* all too well what you're going through. Actually, I can't imagine also having kids and a hubby and pets who all need me when dealing with that kind of pain. I absolutely know how shitty this is. And, like I said, if there's anything at all I can do, please let me know.

I'm sorry you're hurting, Cash.