Medical Mysteries

Paige: Hey, sis, how's it... you ok? What's up with your hand?

Monica: Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm ok. It's my wrist actually. RB had to do a little surgery. It's ok now, see? You can barely see the scar.

Paige: Surgery!? My god, what happened?

Monica: Nothing! Really, I'm ok. You remember CoverDoll? Well I think all that posing really did a number on my wrist. It just got looser and looser with every photo shoot we did after that. After we got back from Japan I found I just didn't have the strength to hold it still anymore.

Paige: But surgery? RB is no surgeon, let me tell you. He can barely take care of his own headaches.

Monica: He did fine. Really fine. He talked with the folks over at Abyss and they told him what he needed to do. Didn't seem like a big deal. Oh, you should have seen him. He was so cute! We held hands while he figured out where he needed to cut, cleaned up the spot with some rubbing alcohol, and then he got out the knife. He was so nervous, but once he decided to do it, he was all "Ok, let's do this this. Ready? On three. One... Two..." and then he cut. 

Paige: Gasp Oh my god. He didn't. I'd kill him if he did that to me.

Monica: Yep, he did. Surprised me, all right. He found the bolt right off, though.

Paige: So it's feeling better now?

Monica: Yeah. Once he figured out the right sized socket wrench he slipped it in, a couple small turns, and tightened it right up. Now I can hold things again. A little glue, a little powder after it dried to get rid of the glossy look, and I'm right as rain.

Paige: Huh. How right is rain, anyway?

Monica: Uhm, good question. No idea. Hey, you remember watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer?

Paige: Oh, yeah. Faith and her "five by five". What was up with that?

Monica: Not a clue. But god I loved that show. Oh, hey, now that I'm thinking about it, how is RB doing with those headaches? Didn't seem bothered by it when he was working on me.

Paige: Not bad at all. He thinks the problem is just stress. It seems to have eased off recently. But you know those doctors. They keep wanting to scan him to make sure. I'm not worried, though. And he seems to be having fun being poked and prodded.

Monica: Grrr... We should be the only ones doing the poking and prodding.

Paige: Oh, stop that. You know him. He's fascinated by all the technology. He seems to get off on all those things spinning around his head. Besides, it's about time he got checked out. He hadn't had a physical since he was a teenager. So far they haven't found a thing, and that's good.

Monica: Well, I'm still worried. Tell him to poke back at those doctors and get them to tell him something.

Paige: Will do, but only if you tell him he needs to meditate more. If life is getting to him, he needs to learn to calm down.

Monica: I've been trying! But hey, is it my fault he'd rather stay in bed with us dolls than get up in the morning and do that deep breathing thing he does?

Paige: Uhm, that would be a yes?

Monica: Oh. Well, I guess I better do something about that.

Paige: Why yes, yes you should. Or should I say, you shouldn't. Do something. With him, that is.

Monica: Uhm, yes, I suppose so. I'll get right on that. That not doing anything... thing. And doing something... you know, in the mornings. To get him up. Wait, that didn't come out right. I mean...

Paige: Stop right there, sis, before you give us all headaches. I think we all get it. Grin