Yesterday my mother called to see how Leta was doing and before I would let her hang up I blurted out, “I just think you should know that I have a cyst on the back of my knee. And it’s infected.”
“Oh?” she asked. “Cysts run in the family. Your grandmother has them removed from her head all the time.”
“I love that image, Mom. Anyway, the doctor wouldn’t lance it today because she said she’s afraid the infection could spread.”
“Well, what are you going to do? You can’t just walk around with a cyst in your leg.”
“Actually, I have been. It can be done. However, she’s putting me on a week’s treatment of antibiotics to reduce the swelling. I’m just a little worried because, you know, antibiotics can interfere with the effectiveness of The Pill.”
“So what did the doctor say?”
“She said that if getting pregnant would be the absolute worst thing right now that we should use a back-up method. And I was all WORST THING? UM, YEAH. Hell yes, a back-up method, LIKE MY MOUTH.”
“Heather. This is your mother. You are talking to your mother.”
“Yes, I know, but if I can’t talk to you about it who CAN I talk to? The Internet?”