The Newfie Sandwich

The other day I was the doctor’s office getting my thyroid checked. (I have thyroid disease. Go me.)

Everything checked out just great and after the exam was over I went to hop down off of the table.

Being that I’m a bit challenged, when I hopped down I hit my knee on the side of the table, my knee buckled and I slammed down on the floor in the least graceful way anyone could fall off of an exam table.

My doctor abruptly turned around and said,

“Oh my goodness! Jen are you o.k.?”

Completely and totally embarassed I muttered,

“I’m good. I’m good. Darn knees, they just aren’t what they use to be.”

Of course that started a whole other discussion and the doctor asked how long I’ve been having knee issues.

“About 8 years.” I told her.

” Do you want me to examine your knees? Do you do any heavy exercises? Any recent falls?”

“No. I have Newfoundlands.”

Which caused a very puzzled look to appear on my doctor’s face.

So then I HAD to explain.

“I have 2 Newfoundlands. They like to do the Newfie sandwich to me when we walk or go up and down stairs.”

Her puzzled look grew more intense.

“It’s like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sherman and Leroy are the bread and my left leg is the jelly and my right leg is the peanut butter. When we go down the stairs I have 150 pounds of dog smashing into my knees. Creating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Smooooosh. It happens at least 4 times a day times 8 years”

Oh dear Lord. What did I just say.

Did I just give a definition of Newfie Sandwich to a medical professional?

It was at that point that I realized I was probably going to be leaving the clinic in a straight jacket.

I envisioned myself calling my husband and telling him I was being taken to the loony bin and him letting out a sigh of relief.

But luckily my doctor has a sense of humor and she started laughing uncontrollably.

“Jen. That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day! But I’m sorry about your knees”

Enter in sigh of relief.

So she leaves (laughing) to go get the paperwork for my labs. When she comes back she walks in the room and shouts:

“Are you the girl that walks the 2 big brown bears? I see you all the time walking down the street and it makes me smile!”

“That’s me.” I said.

“You look so tiny walking them! Next time I see you I’m going to beep and wave. Unless of course you’re in the middle of being sandwiched. Then I’ll just let you be so you don’t fall down”

Awesome.

In 30 minutes I managed to have my neck poke and prodded, my arm pricked with a needle, fall off of a table, explain a Newfie sandwich, almost end up in the loony bin and add another beeper to the list.

Go Jen.