Tested To My Limits

So last week, I had the MRI I was telling you about, and unfortunately, I didn’t sprout forklift arms. Not even fork hands, which would also have been cool, although somewhat of a step down. But I quickly got over it because this week, I had to have a CAT scan on my head to try and figure out why I haven’t been able to breathe out of my left nostril for a very long time. Thankfully, I didn’t have to do anything special for it, except for show up at the hospital early yesterday morning.

I was sitting in the waiting room when the radiologist came to get me. He called my name and introduced himself and my blood ran cold. “Yello,” he said. “My name is Sergei. I vill be doing your CAT scan. Come vis me.” Yes, he was Russian. Now, I have absolutely nothing against Russians, but several years ago, I almost caused an international incident with our Soviet comrades when I said the following as part of a post about giving up some of my organs to science:

“Just the other day, I read an article on an actual legitimate internet site about Russian researchers who are on the brink of being able to do a head transplant. They even have a patient lined up for the procedure, believe it or not. This, of course, led me to wonder though–under what possible circumstances would you EVER need a head transplant?! How the hell did you manage to get yourself decapitated in the first place? And if it were possible to re-attach a head to a body, wouldn’t you want your OWN head back? Where would you even find a body that had also lost its head so you could put the two of them together? Kate says that it’s for people who are quadriplegic, so that they can have more mobility, but in that case, wouldn’t it be a better use of medical research to figure out how to fix a spine, rather than aspire to be Dr. Frankenstein? Trust the Russians to do things the hard way—this is why they lost the war. Which war, you ask? Take your pick. I did some internet fact-checking because as we all know, historical accuracy isn’t one of my strengths, and it turns out that they lost almost every war they’ve ever been involved in. Sorry, Russia. They DID win the space race though, so hats off for that.”

Then a few days later, I was looking at my site statistics and realized that someone from Russia was reading my blog. So I did what any rational person would do under similar circumstances: I freaked out and called Ken:

Me: I think I’ve just caused an international incident.
Ken: What are you talking about?
Me: Remember last week when I was dissing the Russians for losing a lot of wars? Well, someone from Russia is reading my blog. What if it’s the KGB? What if they want my head?!
Ken: HAHAHAHA
Me: It’s not funny. If I go out for groceries and never come back, you’ll know why.
Ken: I’m sure no one is coming all the way from Russia to kidnap you and steal your head just because you said they were bad at war.
Me: YOU DON’T KNOW THAT, KEN!

So I spent several months afterwards worrying constantly about being reprimanded by Justin Trudeau for violating some kind of peace treaty, as one does, or having my head affixed atop a figure skater. I finally stopped thinking about it and assumed the Russians had forgiven me. But just when I thought that I had nicely dodged not only an international incident AND potential decapitation, I found myself at the mercy of Sergei, as he directed me to lie down on the bed and commanded “Tip your chin up, pliz.” I was just on the verge of yelling out, “No one is going to want my head—my mind is like a cross between a Monty Python sketch and a jukebox that never stops playing! It will make whoever you donate it to go crazy! Also, I said ALMOST all the wars–I’m sure you’ve won a couple, but history is not my strong suit!”—when I heard Sergei’s voice in the speaker above my head: “You’re all finished,” he said. “Have a nice day.”

“Spasibo,” I answered, just to be on the safe side.

I’m including the picture below because I know a lot of people have been feeling down lately, and after I took it, I said, “This looks like a beacon of hope.” Of course, that could just be me all tired and sentimental after a week of medical testing, but you have to admit, it’s peaceful and pretty.

69 thoughts on “Tested To My Limits”

  1. I could be wrong about this, but I’d assume that anyone wanting a head transplant would want to use their very own head, putting it onto someone else’s body. Because if they kept the body–hell, it’d be someone else’s brain, so they wouldn’t know about it. So your head is safe. Worry about your body being snatched.

    Isn’t it good that I’m here to reassure you?

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  4. OMG I am dying. I could not breath I was laughing so hard. Lucky woke up and came over to stare at me. Making sure that I was ok. I love that you started a national incident and worried that Justin was going to reprimand you. But don’t you think he would do a much better reprimand in person? Watch out for any sudden limos followed by RCMP cavalcade coming down your street. And if you disappear I promise that I will come looking for you. I have never dissed the Russians. I don’t think. Who knows we could end up together???? In the same cell participating in a dual head transplants! Now see what you have done. Strapping the head down now. Have a great Sunday. 🙂

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  5. Scribblans says:

    I can think of a few UK MP’s that were obviously early trials by the Russians for head transplants where they have had trouble getting the brain working again after an otherwise successful operation. The PM was a successful one obviously. Coco the Clown was very happy with his new body.

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  6. Ha, ha!! First I want to say, Ken can be somewhat odd downer when you are panicking about anything Russian. Like come on Ken, how do you know they aren’t offended? Geez, get with the program here.
    I’m glad you won’t need surgery Suzanne. We have two Russian doctors at work, and when I hear them speak all I can’t think about is…
    *Russian accent*…….. “Come Natasha, we must get Moose and Sqvirel” 🤣😝

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  7. I’m wondering if scientists are growing heads in laboratories–heads that don’t really belong to anyone–just spares. Would I want a spare or someone else’s head that existed in reality on someone else’s body?

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    • Oh yes–last night I said to Ken, who lost to Russian in the snow? Was that Napoleon?” and he said, “No it was the Germans. The Russians helped win WW2” and I was like “So ALMOST all the wars, then?” and he rolled his eyes at me, which I took to mean that I was correct.

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  12. “having my head affixed atop a figure skater.” Lol Ha ha ha. Such a funny post, Suzanne. I love where your head goes (pun intended). I hope after all that there’s nothing wrong with your head and the Russians still don’t want it. 🙂

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  13. Oh… LOL! I sure can see why Russians would want to get your head! Have you considered not going back to the hospital, to keep away from sneaky Sergeïs, Andreïs and Dimitris? You still have one perfectly clear nostril left, and if for some reason, it gets blocked too, you can always breathe through your mouth, right? If you don’t do it for you and your family, do it for me! I already have enough to worry about with Trina bombing her government with hate mail… Mouahahahahahhaha

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  14. They’d want a head with two working nostrils, you know, so I think you’re safe.

    Reattaching heads… Yeah, maybe they should first focus on all the cadavers in the morgue. “She was only 18 when she drowned…” Well, reanimate her, you fool Ruskies, don’t cut off her head and stick Vlad’s ugly smug mug on her body.

    Warmer in Canada than in Texas? Hmm, what Faustian wager did you all pose this winter?

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  17. Pliz tell me you wrote your Sergei dialog in your head with exactly the tone I read it in my head, which is to say with the diction of the Drago character from one of the Rocky films released when we were in high school. The bad guy after Apollo Creed, or maybe the one after that. (Maybe this is funny only in my head!) I’m glad your procedure went quickly and smoothly.

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  19. Since I’m late to the party I’m going to start by saying how lovely that picture is and it reminds me of the Philip Larkin poem “Morning At Last: There in the Snow”. And we had actual snow way down here in the south this weekend too, which is unusual. Even more unusual was finding tracks through the otherwise unbroken snow that I realized were made by deer.
    Anyway I hope I’m not putting you in too much danger by pointing out that technically the Russians lost the space race. At least they lost the race to the Moon. Sure, Sputnik was the first artificial satellite and they were the first ones to put a dog and a man and a mannequin and, I don’t know, being Russians probably a bear into space, but who made it to the Moon? The United States! With help from Germany and Australia and probably also Canada.

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