Gall Bladder and Liver and Pancreas, oh my!

Today was ultrasound day for the above organs. And, of course, everything looks normal. My blood tests are normal too. Everything looks fine. Which is great an all, but I'd still really like to know why I feel nauseated all the time and why it still feels like someone is sticking hot pokers into my upper abdomen on a fairly regular basis? Because, you know, it would be nice if that would stop.

Plus my GP's office, eho are usually really nice gave me a super hard time about getting my referral filled out, they even charged me £15 (that's almost $30 USD) to have it signed which they have never done before. And then acted all pissy when I asked them why in, what I felt, was a totally non confrontational manner. Although given the nearness of my period I could be underestimating myself there.

Do you ever wonder if during those moments when you think you are being perfectly reasonable and calm you actually look like some horrible shreiking harpie to everyone around you? I wonder that all the time. I get really concerned about my accent too, I always worry that people are misinterpreting my tone and actually think i'm being a jerk when I'm just trying to make a joke or lighten a tense situation. Such are the pitfalls of expat living.

Something nice though: While I was waiting to go to get the ultrasound done I realised I was really close to this galleria shopping area on The Thames where I went with my parents and the family friends we were travelling with 13 years ago during my first ever visit to London. At the time of that visit I went into a bookstore there and bought a copy of Paddy Clarke Ha, Ha, Ha, by Roddy Doyle (I heard him reading an excerpt from in on the CBC radio station a couple days before we left but couldn't find a copy of the book anywhere in Port Huron) the lady at the counter talked to me about how she had just got back from holiday and she was already coughing again and finding black bits in her snot (so much for that famed English composure, huh) and I laughed with her and tried to look like I knew all about city living and black bits in your snot. Strangely, that encounter was one of the ones that endeared me to London the most. More than Kensington Gardens and my first trip to the Serpentine Gallery. More than Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty's Own Theatre. About the same as walking across Tower Bridge and looking down the length of The Thames for the first time.

It was nice to find that bookshop again today and go back in to browse around. I still have a copy of that book and I'm pretty sure it still has a receipt for its purchase inside to be used as a bookmark should i ever reread it.