“I don’t like how swollen that leg is. I need you to go right now and get a sonogram to rule out a blood clot.”
“Wait, what?”
Are you kidding me? No no no no no “Let me see the other foot. Maybe you just have big legs.”
Stunned silence. Still processing scary blood clot sentence.
Big leg comment is a nose behind blood clot then she takes the lead.
I don’t have cankles, so shut up Mr. Dr. Surgeon Fancy Pants
“No, it’s swollen.”
Told you
Back to blood clot.
I am alone. The nurse tells me I need to go to the imaging center at the hospital just down the street. We are in the “Cedars corridor”—Cedars-Sinai being the hospital where all the stars are whisked off to after they have had ten too many.
He asks me if I have a GP. I do and I don’t. My GP works in an office that serves the entertainment community. When they close at 5 pm, that’s it—no contacting your physician. I kept meaning to get a stand-alone doctor but it never happened. It took me a long time to find her and now she isn’t enough.
“Well, if you do have a clot you need to talk to your GP so they can call in the right drugs or you have to go to the ER, and meanwhile a starlet will be
