Why I deserve a King Size Bed...

Brad and I have decided that we need to take better care of ourselves. Neither of us have had a physical in awhile, so wheels were put into motion and an appointment was set up. A few weeks ago a medical technician came to our house for our physicals. I asked Brad repeatedly (although in retrospect I should have Googled this) if we would have to give blood. I hate blood and I despise having it taken. In fact I can only remember actually having blood taken once (it was actually at Brad's parent's home by his mom and I believe I fainted afterwards). I have had an IV (from when I had my wisdom teeth hacked out in high school) and before the surgery I fainted after they pricked my finger (I was placed in a wheelchair and given oxygen and then gas to calm down). I've had a flu shot every year since starting college, but I cannot see the needle beforehand, nor can I see it go into my fleshy arm. I have fainted after a steroid shot, so maybe shots aren't my friends either. I always tear up or cry why my finger is pricked-it just hurts sooo bad!! Sorry, I digress. So during our physicals and after we had spent a solid 30 minutes answering health questions and taking up this poor woman's time, she pulls out a scale from her bag. As I stepped on the scale (which was not a happy occasion) I casually asked the nurse if we would have to give blood. She responds "oh yes, didn't your husband tell you?" Um, no he sure the heck did not. She suspiciously eyed me and asked why giving blood was so upsetting to me and I told her about my traumatic past with blood, needles, etc., not because I had any health conditions, drug habits, etc. Fortunately, I was able to recline in a chair with Bella in my lap as the blood was extracted via the child size needle (actually by Brad-yes, long story, but that sorry joker actually took 2 vials of my blood!!!). As tears silently streamed down my face (fortunately no fainting and I enjoyed indulging in a REAL COCA COLA for the sugar!!), I told Brad that I definitely deserved a "treat." By treat I meant a mattress upgrade. I have been lobbying for at least 6 weeks for a new bed. Brad is ALMOST sick enough of me telling everyone (friends, strangers, etc.) that sleeping in a small queen size bed is "jacking up my shoulder/arm" that he may cave in and just get me one (I'm hoping!). Brad declared that if we did get an upgrade that he wanted a California King instead of a regular King. Again, I used my friend Google and found the dimensions for both Cal Kings and Regular Kings. Cal Kings are very long, but are not as wide as regular Kings. Regular Kings are as long as a queen, but a lot wider. As Brad and I are not really on the tall side (clearly) and Brad's legs do not hang off the end of our small bed, I am more concerned with width and not length-oh the struggles of chubby people! In the end, we've agreed to a Regular King should I get so lucky and Brad gets me one for my Birthday/Christmas/Anniversary/Valentine's Day, etc. hint, hint, hint. Anyways, we received our physical results in the mail today and our results were normal, although we both had one elevated item that we need to keep an eye on, so it was good news for the most part. I'll keep yall posted on my upgrade (or lack thereof). There's going to be some really good furniture sales this Labor Day weekend (or so a salesman told me after I explained my "jacked up" arm/shoulder situation to him tonight). :)