This one time, when I was 7, I went to a roller-skating party with my church/school friends and I was skating with
ease and grace speed, and I wiped out and broke my arm. I don’t remember it clearly, it’s probably blocked along with a lot of other painful memories like the time my brother blew up all my off-brand Barbies by putting Black Cat firecrackers inside their cheap plastic forms… In retrospect, that memory is not suppressed. I’m gonna need a minute.
But I wiped out and my arm was broken, and after a significant amount of time, a parental figure came to pick me up and told me to walk it off. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but it was my dad and it was ILL of him. Rumor had it, in the childhood household, that I was a drama queen and a bit of a hypochondriac and thus, injuries were taken with a grain of salt. Days later, when my arm was massive and purple and immovable, it was determined that I was not full of it and if you don’t think I still feel vindicated, then you maybe don’t know me at all.
Then I met the boy who would become my husband and, while I would not call him a drama queen to his face (today), I will say that he is very in touch with both his spiritual state and his physical state, and, more specifically, what is malfunctioning in his physical state. We got married and then we grew up and somehow I developed the walk-it-off mentality of my forefather and foremother.
As a result, I tend to ignore whatever seems wonky, like that I’ve been tired all the time, or that I’m achy and irritable and not pregnant, but thank you for asking, until none of us could stand it and we decided to get healthy(er). So we’ve started a slow-but-steady campaign of trying to improve our diet.
Something I ate caused an allergic reaction, with hives and swelling and pain, etc, and so I made my once-a-year trip to urgent care. The decoy doctor came in first, as is customary, and did my pre-interview, and then I realized that I have everything. Seriously, have you answered these questions? I have everything. All of it. Not at this precise moment, but, you know, sometimes. And when someone is asking you if you have blurry vision, it kind of seems like maybe it’s a little blurry, right now? IS IT BLURRY right NOW? No, okay, not right now. Whew.
Walk-in-urgent-care docs are a bit of a breed. Look, if you know one or ARE one, then I’m sure you or they are the total exception to the rule. I’m just saying, when I go, it’s generally because I want to pay money to have a professional tell me that Google was right and I should take some Benadryl. Also, he tells me, maybe I should lay off the fast food and eat a normal diet. “Google it”, he says, “recommended diet”. I’m thinking about becoming an urgent care doctor, myself, because I have MAD Google skillz.
After that, he told me to go to a physician, and I was like, wiggy-what, because I thought I just DID, but then he said he is not licensed to take my blood. (Is it just me, or do you also hear “take my blood” in a Dracula voice with a muaHAHA?) And he also said I am anemic, and to get some iron at Walmart. So there you go. I’m gonna take some iron and get some diseases from WebMd, see ya later.