What with all of these hilarious song lyrics, so many birthdays, and the American Idol finale (Stop singing "Over the Rainbow." Just stop. And was Elliott wearing a boy scout uniform?), I forgot to tell you all that everything is set up for my next visit to the Mayo Clinic in July. If everything goes as expected, it should be a one-day affair. I'm scheduled to drop off my Big Jug at the Official Urine Station (they're mailing it to me before the trip so I can pre-pee) and have blood drawn in the morning. Jay and I will meet with the doctor in the afternoon to go over the results. Yeah. At Mayo, you get your test results back within hours. None of this two-week stuff.
Jay's parents were nice enough to say they'd come along to Rochester and look after WCB while we're talking to the doctor. She's the World's Cutest Baby, but she's just not who you want with you when you're trying to have a serious medical conversation:
DOCTOR: It appears that your protein levels have ...
ME: WCB! Stop eating the nice lady's stethoscope!
After that, we're planning to go up to the Twin Cities for a few days to see friends and, of course, go to the Mall of America. It's one of my favorite places on earth. I just love the way it smells. It's like a mixture of new shoes, gumballs, freshly baked doughnuts, and chlorine from the Camp Snoopy water rides. If they made a Mall of America air freshener, I'd buy cases of it.