What if the Hokey Pokey is what it's ALL ABOUT?

The scans are coming! The scans are coming!
So the scan results are in, and they're all good. The MRI, the bone scan, and the CT scan were all negative (which is positive!), no spread of cancer as evidenced. Who's a happy camper? Your mama is.
It's been a crazy few days since I posted last time. Saturday I came dangerously close to passing out in the shower, i.e.- I started to black out and then laid in the bottom of the shower for twenty minutes trying to recoup, which in reality meant I just thought about the soap scum and all the hair in the drain. Then I went into wretching mode, which really meant that I just transferred my attention to how badly the toilet needed to be cleaned. Finally I called Bobby in, after I had taken off all of my clothes and was laying on the tile, where Bobby kept saying, "Um, oh God, don't lay there, um, Lori, oh... eww, gross." Later I was informed that this was a floor where "countless girls have hurled and numerous guys have pissed anywhere but the toilet." At the time, though, you know how it is: you just want cold tile against your body. Oh, the porceline god, we bow down to you.
So I took a Vicodin, and if you know me at all, you know that it had to be some serious f**king pain for me to do that, but I did and felt better. Anything was better than going to the ER, which I seriously considered for about .72 seconds. I've come up with some theories as to what was going on, but they involve the Black Panthers and radio waves transmitted through Nancy Regan's teeth, and we just don't have time to go into all that, kids. I did speak with Dr. Vk about the incessant nausea, and he wrote me a Rx for Kytrol (sp?), which isn't covered by Medicaid, and, guess what, is $1500 for a month's supply. So the plan now is to sell my heart on the black market, but it's so tempting to buy a car instead. I found a great Impala on car soup, and it's a toss-up: nausea free for a month or a mode of transportation? You decide.