Highly inappropriate doin's in the CT suite (Hi, Mom!)

So I walked in to the CT suite through the back door, and Steve-O looked up and said, "Hey, Steph! Guess who's here!"

Steph and Steve and I were all hired at the same time, so we have a shared history.

Steve checked my armbands while Steph did whatever mysterious thing it is that CT geniuses do to the machine before your scan. "You pregnant?" Steve asked.

"Geez, I hope not," I said, "as we'd either need a baby or a stable in Bethlehem at this point."

"How long's it been since you've had sex?" he persisted.

"Uh....a year?" I said, then added quickly, "I can't seem to get a date."

Steph chose that moment to get on the microphone into the scan room. "You gonna run her pee?" she asked.

"No," Steve said, "she hasn't had sex in a year."

Much hilarity.

Then I got up on the extremely narrow CT bed and had the contrast drip hooked up to my IV and laid there while they took slicey-dicey X-rays of my head. Steph warned me every time she injected dye. The dye makes any areas with high blood flow (like the perineum) feel quite warm; most women describe it as a feeling of having peed in their pants. That's about right.

In addition, Steph would occasionally say, "Okay....the dye's going in. Now: DON'T SWALLOW."

We finished in ten minutes or less. As I swung my legs off of the bed, Steph and Stevie both came into the room. I said, (and thank God for time to think of a good line) "Thanks, you guys! Between the dye injection and the warnings not to swallow, that was the most fun I've had in a year!"

Once in a very great while you get to leave the stage to applause.