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I went to see the doctor, because my butt was hurting, and I thought I might have hemorrhoids. But after examining me for half an hour, the doctor told me I didn't need any treatment. He said it would get better if I just stayed away from my husband for a while. I tried to explain that I'd been divorced for years, and I hadn't dated anyone since then, but the doctor didn't believe me. He thought I was lying. No matter how much I tried to explain, the doctor stuck to his diagnosis. The next day I came back. This time my stomach was hurting, and after doing an ultrasound, the doctor told me I'd had a miscarriage. Now, I was really pissed off. I don't even have a husband, but the doctor still wouldn't believe I was single. He couldn't wrap his head around it, because the test results don't lie. After making some quick notes about my case, he just turned and walked away, but guess what? I was back again on the third day. This time my neck was hurting, and after checking me out, the doctor said it was a hickey. I told him I'd already looked it up online, and I was sure it was an early sign of cancer. The doctor was getting frustrated. He still thought I was making things up. I kept telling the doctor I didn't have a husband, and I hadn't had a boyfriend in ages. Seeing how insistent I was, he pulled out a couple strands of my hair, planning to run some kind of psychological test to see if maybe I'd gotten a boyfriend without being aware of it. But I stood my ground. The doctor went ahead and tested my hair, but the results came back totally normal. He thought I might have split personality disorder, so he asked me how I'd been sleeping. I told him I slept just fine, except I always woke up feeling exhausted and worn out, and my ex-husband who lives downstairs, he'd been calling me lately wanting to get back together. After hearing all this, the doctor seemed to have figured something out. He had me spend the night in the hospital's sleep lab. The next day, looking at my brainwaves, he noticed they became extremely active after midnight. That's a classic sign of sleep walking. The truth finally came out. Turns out I'd been sleepwalking to my ex-husband's place every night, which explained the pregnancy and the hickey. The doctor suggested I just go home and remarry the guy, joking that I couldn't even keep my ex out of my dreams. Then, he prescribed me some medication to help treat my sleepwalking problem.