Anyway, I had to go get an ultrasound done so they could get a few snapshots of my insides. I was told to go fasting, but to drink 32 oz of water one hour before the test. I learned something about myself. I don't have a 32 oz bladder. I was kept in the waiting room for an additional 10 minutes and by the time the ultrasound started I had to have a conversation with the cute young ultrasound technician that we were about to have a medical emergency on our hands (well, maybe not a medical emergency, but a very real emergency nonetheless). He promised he would hurry. My definition of hurrying would be to quickly get the work done. His definition of hurrying entailed pressing directly on my bladder for extended periods of time. I don't think I have ever been in such a precarious predicament in all my adult life. He finally let me take a bathroom break before he inspected the rest of my innards. I had to ask him "when you were in grade school, did you ever dream that one day you would look at people's spleens?" He laughed and admitted that it never crossed his mind.
Apparently my spleen is in excellent condition. He said my liver looked fine too. That's good to know.