Lately, some, hmm shall we say, interesting experiences have been showing up and I’m writing this open letter to you hoping for more explanation or at least a clue about it. Although you know what’s been going on (as you’ve been a party to it!), let me apprise you of same.
Firstly, riddle me this: If you are visiting the emergency room (aka: puking people central) and you are, in fact, ambulatory, why don’t you take your ass to the bathroom to barf? Must you sit there in the waiting room chucking into a blue bag while your mother gabs away on the phone next to you? For those of us with acute hearing abilities, sitting even quite a distance from you is hellish.
What was I doing in Puking People Central, you ask?
Oh, Duty passed out at work and hit his head on a server rack. He’s fine, so don’t worry. They kept him overnight for observation because when you have an underlying heart condition, passing out for any reason requires medical attention.
I just hate hate hate hospitals and cannot fathom ever being in that environment for any length of time. And Duty keeps getting himself there for one reason or another. I’ve asked him to cease and desist immediately. (He got a good laugh out of my terror at seeing “barfing guy” sit down next to him in a chair in the bloodwork area. I ran out of there so fast, it was almost a blur! You will not be barfing anywhere near me, dude. Blargh!)
Secondly, Universe, what’s with the hernia thing?
(It sounds so old person, farty and unattractive, doesn’t it? I know. Sigh)
I had abdominal surgery in 1997 and however many years later, a weird pain shows up near my incision. It’s just twingy now and again, nothing chronic or overly painful. Of course, I did a slew of internet research and after determining that I wasn’t going to die immediately, I called for an appointment with the local doctor (who is, truthfully, craptastic. Like, I know more than he does, craptastic.) mostly to get a referral to see someone with a clue.
After waiting eleventy hours while he chatted with the medical sales reps (all bearing gifts, of course!), I got his attention. Wherein what he told me subtracted brain cells out of my head. He gets out some dumbass diagram to show me the muscle groups in the abdomen and opines that perhaps it’s a muscle pull of some sort.
Yes, because sitting my ass on the couch is so damn strenuous. Sheesh! Dude, I know from a muscle pull and this ain’t it.
Motrin and “wait and see” is prescribed.
Your intrepid reporter lobbies for a consult with a surgeon and gets one (against Doctor Suck’s advice) and so I shall wait to see what that brings. Hopefully, it’s nothing major (every time something happens I worry that it’s a big deal (as in the C word) and I’m busy staving off that concern for now).
And finally, Universe, I’d like to say thank you for all the wonderful things you do give me day after day. Even though I wonder what energies are swirling around me, I never forget to be immensely thankful for all that is there (good and not-so-good).
In gratitude and wonder,