These are my boobs. Nice, huh? This is also my favorite picture of my boobs. They look perky here, yes? Firm. Perhaps because they are smashed flat between ice cold steel and plexi-glass, molded into perfection.

I mean, they ARE perky in real life, of course. Ask anyone.

OK, don’t ask anyone. They aren’t perky. They could be again for a reasonable sum. At least they are clear of any Irregular Cells. (Although how anyone would know by looking at this is beyond me. What are all those lightening bolts?) Anyway, I’ll have to be satisfied with having healthy boobs.

Jeez, I just noticed they are different sizes. And shapes. Are everyone’s? Well, I can’t agonize over that.

In Costa Rica, when you get any medical tests – blood, CAT scan, MRI, whatever – you walk out with all the tests so you can pore over them at home. Or post them on the internet. (Because the world needs to see them.)

In the states, you can’t just call up and order a mammogram. A doctor has to do it for you which adds the cost of a doctor’s visit to the price tag. For what? (I know the answer: for my own good. Thank you, AMA.) Here, you just make an appointment, get the test, pay and go. So simple! And, I’m sorry, doctors aren’t radiologists… why would they bother having the X-ray in their files? (I know the answer: for my own good. And a doctor’s visit fee. Hmph.)

My last mammogram was three years ago when we first got here: $42 or something like that, including an ultrasound. Thursday’s was $80 (mammo and ultrasound). The price of everything has gone up here but still, so cheap! And the place I went to, Clinica California, features instant digital imaging: my boobs showed up on the TV screen while the X-ray was humming. Pretty cool. And everyone says that radiologist is exceptionally good at spotting bad cells in between the lightening bolts. He looked and said, “All clear.” I’m going with it.

Here’s a little John Prine background music for the rest of the post. I’m singing all his songs these days (Thank you, kmcgang!) My favorite song is Crazy As A Loon but I couldn’t find a youtube of it. I guess I identify with it right now… But this here’s a goodie, too. Plus there’s a message. See if you can figure it out:

In other news, we are staying in Costa Rica. Hal is never leaving so if I want to stay married, I’ll have to stay here. That’s not exactly true… if I insisted on leaving, he’d come with me. But he wouldn’t be happy about it! I’m perfectly happy to live here, as long as I can visit my buds and relatives. I still want to spend a couple of months late this summer in Key West. There is some business to take care of (and hopefully expand), the boys can get their GEDs, driver’s licenses, we can take a class at the college… all the same reasons I talked about before. I’m anxious to hang with my old good buddies for a bit, see my Mom’s new home in Atlanta, maybe get all the way up to KY to see the siblings.

I feel like I need (don’t tell Hal I used this word) closure. Re-live that old life for a bit, then say a proper good bye to it. We never said goodbye, really. Just came for awhile, then never went back. I need a little you-know-what.

After that, I’m ready to come home and get on with it. Next February, we’ll qualify for permanent residency and I’ll be able to work. Doing what, I don’t know, but something. Probably real-estate related – I’m anxious to do ANYTHING! I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so hot to spend time in Key West: I can work there. Even if I don’t make any money (although that would be a drag.) Just wonder around, looking at houses, talking to old and new customers. Heck, I’ll waitress, I don’t care! Just get out of the house for awhile.

Sometimes I think it’s so strange how this whole moving-to-Costa Rica adventure has all worked out, you know? In spite of ourselves. In spite of everything.

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