Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Happy Valentine's Day to Me

Three months ago, on the day before Thanksgiving, a bee landed on my shirt at work.  The girl standing next to me started yelling and screaming, and before I knew what was going on, started backhanding my ovaries in an attempt to crush this magnificent insect.

 I nearly punched a bitch.

Over the next 10 weeks I found myself in the emergency room three times -- once because the worker's comp clinic was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday, again because my worker's comp rep recommended I go back to the same doctor when symptoms returned, and yet again when my gynecologist wanted to rule out an appendicitis.  According to every ER doctor I saw, I'm not actively dying.

The gynecologist also recommended seeing an internist, which apparently is different than a family physician because an internist focuses on adults.  Who knew.  The internist referred me to a pain clinic.  The pain clinic requested a lumbar MRI and very happily confirmed I have osteoarthritis.

"But you're young!" she says.  "This is mild!" she says.

Fucking great.


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