« I'm not usually in the habit of slapping the homeless... | Main | Voodoo! »

July 01, 2004

I broke my...chest?

Keeping with my promise to blog each day this week, I will continue to type through the pain. The horrible chest pain!

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. Just a bit.

I stayed late today to try and get some boxes packed up, and while lifting a particularly heavy box, I strained some muscles. In my chest. I had a moment of fear, thinking, this is a new chest pain I've never had before, I hope it's not serious, before realizing that my heart was beating just fine and I could also breathe. I've heard that having a heart-attack makes you feel as though an elephant is sitting on your chest, and this didn't feel like an elephant. More like a large dog. Or maybe a goat. Possibly something as large as a pygmy hippopotamus (interesting fact on that website under the subtitle Special Adaptations; Skin Secretions: The pygmy hippo does not swear [sic]. I think they mean to say that it does not sweat. But I could be wrong. Maybe it has a heightened sense of morality).

The point is - it fucking hurt. I went to the closest urgent care to make absolutely sure I hadn't seriously injured myself. They were really excited to see me, as they had closed just 5 minutes before I arrived. And I got to fill out some really fun patient information forms as it was my first time there. I got all of 1 minute with the actual doctor, who diagnosed me with a chest muscle strain from five feet away by never touching any part of me. He said the first couple of days will be painful, but I should expect about an 80% reduction in pain after that time. If I'm not feeling better after this weekend, I have to go in for X-rays. Whoopie.

What really sucks is that my job lately can be broken down into two important areas: paperwork and moving heavy boxes. I have a lot of heavy boxes to move, and no chest muscles to do it with. I wish I had an assistant. Then I could delegate my responsibility to him/her. Maybe they can just appoint me a valet, or something. I'm not very good at delegating, but I'm sure with practice I could get much better.

I also saw a new homeless man today on that same corner. Nothing really remarkable about him, but his sign sign now said: WAS LIVING THE GOOD LIFE UNTIL A DRUNK DRIVER HIT ME. NOW, BACK AND LEGS ARE FUCKED UP. ANYTHING WILL HELP. GOD BLESS.

God bless you sir. And your fucked up back and legs.

Posted by Ensie at July 1, 2004 09:29 PM

Comments

Post a comment

Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)


Remember me?