Bleah. Prescribed breakfast for gastric emptying study. I detest scrambled eggs.

FRIEND 1: Those look like the most flavorless eggs I’ve ever seen.

ME: And yet there’s an aftertaste.

FRIEND 2: Pale white. No yolk?

ME: Oui, whites only.

FRIEND 3: Can’t you put a little black pepper on those?

ME: I could have; salt, too. It would have been like eating weirdly textured plain pepper.

Oooh, the “signature series.” Don’t I feel special.

I’m at Henry Ford Hospital because sometime down the road, I might need a lung transplant. The team wants to make sure I don’t have some other condition that might interfere, so I’m having a slew of tests I otherwise wouldn’t.