You want fries with that?

I once read something that made me laugh really hard. (Okay, that has happened more that once, but you know what I mean.)
It said, "If you want to really have some fun, every time someone asks you to do something--ANYTHING--reply, 'You want fries with that?'"

Imagine:
"Mom, will you give me $20 for my late fees at the library?"
You want fries with that?
"Honey, will you help me choose a tie that goes with this shirt?"
You want fries with that?
"Ma'am, do you realize how fast you were going in a school zone? May I please see your license and registration?"
You want fries with that?

Okay, so I'm no Norman Vincent Peale. But it did make me laugh.

What did NOT make me laugh was the double MRI-guided biopsy event that took place on September 23rd. This "event" would have paired nicely with general anesthesia. BUT NO. There was no suggestion of even a sedative. I, on a whim, took one valium an hour before I went. I am convinced it saved not only my life but the lives of others in the room that day as well.

Because I am essentially a thoughtful person, I will spare you the details of this procedure. Suffice it to say it was like laying face down on an MRI table, getting a mammogram for an hour and 40 minutes, complete with needles and biopsy drilly-things. My one thought upon leaving, which I voiced to my sweet friend who chauffeured me: Never. Again.

Which brings us to September 30th.