DNA and RIP

Imagine if you will... spitting in a little vial and mailing it off to some unknown lab. Then about 8 weeks later getting the results. NOW imagine the complete shock to learn that the guy you thought was your father, isn't. The results match you to another family all together.

But that's a whole other blog or book... Tonight I'm writing about meeting some of those family members I only discovered a few weeks ago. An aunt came out from the east coast and a sister and her daughter drove a coupla hours up the west coast... just to meet ME.

We were meeting at the nursing home where the grandmother was, then meeting up with an uncle and his daughter for lunch. I wasn't nervous... at all. Honest. I wasn't. 

I picked out a cute outfit, took the time to curl my hair and off I went to the nursing home (that's about 2 miles from my house and a coupla blocks from my office). Pulled up, backed into the stall and when I swung my leg out of the car, I heard it... "rrrriippp". There was about a second filled with a trillion thoughts, "hmm maybe it's small and won't show". "Maybe I should run home and change real quick". On and on... until I looked over and this woman was in the parking lot looking at me. And I was certain she was my aunt, Carol. She mouths, "Krista"? 

IN MY HEAD, "SHIT! Shit, shit, shit! This SHIT only happens to me!". I smiled sweetly, waved and calmly walked over to her... As we made our way inside, I was plotting my escape (not very successfully I might add). 

Once in the room I volunteered to go find the nurse to help grandma get back into bed... oh, YES I volunteered. (p.s. I would have volunteered even if my pants weren’t split all the way down my butt). At the nurse’s station, I quietly asked the little nurse if she had any safety pins. She totally looked suspicious! Like I was going to poke a hole in the oxygen line or something. I leaned over the counter at the risk of my pants ripping further and whispered, "my pants ripped... ummm will you help me?". 

I must have looked pathetic because she jumped up and came around that counter like she was either going to save me or beat me. She lifted my shirt to get a good look and indeed… It must have been bad. Her face!! The horror in her eyes…

In her broken English she said, “YOU go bathroom and turn pants around”. Oh! Great idea… where’s the rest room? On the OTHER side of the damn building!

SHIT! Shit, Shit, Shit!

Once inside the bathroom, it was do or die. I turned my pants around so the rip was in the front, but my pants had this extra fold that tied in the front… like this.    

So, I either had to tie it in the back or tie it in the front and the material would (obviously) be wrong side out. I tied it in the back. My pants were completely backwards!

Back at the nurse’s station… SHE said, “OH much more bettah! Now we use this!" She pulled out a bulky paper clip and used it to close my vest in the front and patted me on the back sending me back to grandma and aunt Carol. In my haste, I forgot to ask her to send someone to help grandma back to bed. 

There were chairs to sit in. But ahem… I was afraid to make any sudden movement or breathe. So, I stood… until my new beautiful sister and her amazing daughter wanted to take pictures… ahem... bent over the hospital bed…

SHIT! Shit, Shit, Shit. I smiled sweetly and acquiesced…

Lunch was fun… I made sure I sat facing the restaurant and closest to the exit

I wonder if she felt the large paper clip when she hugged me and wondered if I had an external pace maker or something? 

(p.s. YES! I will take the paper clip back to that sweet nurse)

Really… I wasn’t traumatized or anything… I mean, this shit happens to me All.The.Time. I was actually laughing in my head at the thought of some day telling these people about this entire ordeal… I mostly decided against telling them though. I mean, what if I tell them and then every encounter thereafter is, “check the ass first then we hug”? Like a new weird ritual… 

New Sisters... What a way to begin our adventures!