Last week the doctor suggested I see a specialist. My husband was with me, but he still teased me about the office call. It hurt my feelings, so I went into my office, slammed the door and turned my air conditioning on high speed. Mom laughed at my temper tantrum, but she saw the concern on my husband’s face. She came into my office, and after complaining about it being too cold and that I could catch my death from the air conditioner, she told me that if I needed anything, she was there for me. It’s not like the problem is life threatening, and my doctor could have diagnosed me, he just prefers specialists. Mom doesn’t hear very well, so she got angry and went to her room, and slammed her door. I heard her heater go on, and I started to laugh. I walked into her room and she threw the paper at me, and demanded to know what was going on, and I said I was just getting old. I asked her why she had the heater on, and she started to laugh. She told me that the air conditioner didn’t work, and she wanted to turn something on, like I did, so she chose the heater. We both started to laugh as we hit my husband up for a new air conditioner for her room. Last week I saw the other doctor and he said there was no problem, I was just pregnant. I felt like someone had set me in front of a blast furnace as I nearly fainted. I’m a grandmother for Pete’s sake. It’s no wonder I am always in need of an air conditioner.