You Don't Want Blood on Your Teeth

Like many people, I'm always a little on edge when I go to the doctor, like I'm going to find out that something horrible and terminal is wrong with me. Of course, I find myself at the doctor all the time, but that's another story. (Some people say I'm a bit of a hypochondriac, but I don't know what they're talking about.)

Anyway, so I went to the doctor on Friday and was pleasantly surprised to be assigned to a very friendly and caring physician. She was about half my size, super sweet, and very motherly (which was a breath of fresh air after my scary encounter with another doctor earlier this year who insisted up and down that I was pregnant and forced me to get a blood test to prove it [without examining me first] because I came in complaining about a bout of dizziness following a very recent stomach virus. And, as I assured her repeatedly, it turns out that I was not, for the record, pregnant.) Anyway, so after seeing the doctor on Friday, she sent me over to get x-rays. The x-ray technician was also amazingly friendly and warm (We had a delightful bonding experience over our mutual love of flip flops). Although, while I was lying on the x-ray table, she complimented my flat stomach, which I found pretty amusing given the circumstances. I told her thank you, but that A) I was lying down, and B) I was holding in my breath as she'd instructed, so of course my stomach looked flat! I was flattered, nonetheless. (You can tell I'm not used to people in medical settings being very friendly toward me). But I'm getting side-tracked.

This seemingly pointless and boring recollection of events at the doctor is leading up to the final part, which is sadly only slightly more interesting.....So at this point I'm thinking my experience at the doctor's office was in fact one of the best yet, but when I step up to the pharmacy, my good mood quickly dissipates. The pharmacist herself hands me my prescription pills, saying, "Now you must take this with food." Yea, yea, I think--I always take them with a little food anyway. Sensing this, she continues, "Because you really don't want blood on your teeth."
"Excuse me?" I respond, flustered, for obvious reasons.
"Well, if you don't take it with food, you'll definitely get a nasty stomach ulcer, which will cause lots of blood to go up your throat and into your mouth. And you really don't want any blood on your teeth, because that's just nasty."
Yes, now the queasiness (hypochondria, whatever you want to call it) sets in.
"WITH FOOD!" she yells again after me as I leave.
Ok lady, way to scare the crap out of me! What the heck was that? Wouldn't "Be sure to take with food" have sufficed? No need to bring my poor innocent teeth into it and leave me with a haunting mental picture of me choking on my own stomach blood for the rest of the day....GROSS! I appreciate the warning, don't get me wrong, but this woman desperately needs some sensitivity training.

So there I am Friday night, frantically stuffing my face with pretzels and chips and anything I can get my hands on before popping the prescription pill, for fear that my teeth may get bloody. Thanks a lot.