Bedrest with Dr. Hottie

It's been an interesting past week.
I spent the week going back and forth between the hospital and doctor's office 4 times in 6 days.

FOUR TIMES.
SIX DAYS.

They think/thought/think that I might be in the very early stages of pre-eclampsia.
My blood pressure is up, swelling is high, weight gain is strange, hemoglobin is down, headaches and on and on.

I had to pee in a big orange jug.
For 24 hours.
And keep it in my refrigerator.
Next to the skim milk.

As if that wasn't humiliating (and annoying enough), I go to the hospital on Saturday for more testing. Each time in the hospital this week I've had one of my physician's residents.
Women.
All women.
Until Saturday.
Saturday I had Dr. HOTTIE who looked more like he had just stepped out of a television soap opera than from a birthing room - tall, dark, blue eyes, and worse yet? Very attentive.

And then it happened - the phrase that every "advanced maternal age" pregnant woman dreads from the young hottie resident:
"Today I think we need to check your cervix."
I'll let your imagination fill in the rest.

Dr. Hottie goes on to inform me that although I had been on "house confinement" the week before, my doctor now wants me on bed rest.
Which would be great news if I didn't have a business to run.
And I wasn't the only employee.
And if I could actually get some REST (a maximum of 2 hours of sleep per night does not a restful night make...).

So at discharge I say to Dr. Hottie, "Can you tell me what to do about my feet swelling? They are fine while I'm lying down, but as soon as stand up they swell up really bad."
Dr. Hottie's response?
"Uh, YEAH...that's why it's called BED. REST."

HMPF.