For the last couple of months I've had an ongoing issue of some kind going on in my guts. I'm still not sure what's going on exactly, but my current theory is that an alien is going to erupt from my sternum at any moment.
As part of the ongoing quest to figure out what exactly is going on I've been going through a series of medical tests. First the simple stuff - bloodwork, etc. That showed nothing wrong. Then the 'poo samples' saga (which has already had far too much discussion here) This also came back and showed nothing wrong. Then we progressed to the ultrasound to check organ function - this was notable for including the following exchange-
I suppose this is where most people make the obvious joke
about finding out if it's a boy or a girl.
VERY NICE ULTRASOUND TECH LADY:
(In a voice of unspeakable weariness)
Once the ultrasound came back showing nothing wrong we moved on to something called a radioactive injection test*.
*Because apparently the name 'Fiendish Death Ray Test was already taken, but they still wanted to sound really sinister.
As tests go it was fairly non-threatening (despite the ominous name). The basic upshot of it is that they put an IV in your arm and fill your veins with radioactive goo. Then they mount you on an enormous metal sandwich board and scan your organs for traces of radiation. The practical upshot of this is that you can watch on the conveniently placed monitor as your liver, gall bladder and small intestine all light up in dayglow colors as radioactive goo gets processed through them.
Now the answer to the two obvious questions -
Yes, the test came back showing nothing wrong,
No, I do not appear to have been turned into the Incredible Hulk
I confess to being disappointed on both counts.
While I had to wait to hear back from the clinic for the first answer, I ascertained the second on my own through the simple expediency of recruiting a colleague at work to attempt to make me mad and see if it caused me to transform into a giant green* rage monster**
** Arguably not the world's most controlled experiment...
One slight procedural hitch - I don't really get angry very often, which caused a little difficulty. So in practice the experiment ran more like -
Did you hear? You're not going to be allowed to have a teacup pig at work in the new offices
Oooooh. <Sad Noise>
No, you're not supposed to get sad. You're supposed to get angry!
But that's really sad news!
If you don't get angry how are you going to turn into the Hulk?
Well... maybe some Hulks aren't triggered by rage. Maybe some Hulks are triggered by other emotions. Maybe I'm Sad Hulk.
Sad Hulk would be Awesome! Sad Hulk would say things like "Sad Hulk wrote you poem. You probably won't like."
"Sad Hulk Eat whole tub of ice cream. No one ever love anyway..."
"Sad Hulk lay down until DIE."
Please begin submitting your own quotes from Sad Hulk with the hashtag #SadHulk. My debilitating stomach pain will totally be worth it if this ends up on the Nerdist.