Big shocker of the day - my arm hurts. Monday, I saw an orthopedic surgeon whose main job in life is to torture poor souls like myself. In April of 2002, I was snowboarding with Kellogg. We were getting off the lift at Death Drop 2000 (for those who don't know this run at Heavenly, it's also known as Patsy's Run on the California side). It was warm - tshirt weather - and we were already sunburned and scraped up from the ice. Now, being the hardcore snowboarder that I am (read as: I suck), we decided to do one more run and then head down for some sunscreen. As all skiers and snowboarders know, "one more run" is a cursed statement. I got off the lift on a board without a stomp pad, my foot slipped, and I slammed onto the ground. There is a long story after that that includes a trip to the clinic in NV, followed by many years of pain, with some stuff inbetween. In any event, yes, my arm hurts. This doctor guy, aka torture man, gave me two shots in my shoulder. TWO SHOTS. Yes, I almost pssed out. Yes, I almost passed out again. He sent me home with an MRI referral (another thing I hate), physical therapy and a date to talk about surgery. Fun fun fun till daddy takes the t-bird awaaaaaay.
This morning, just like I always do, I got up and headed into the shower so as not to offend my coworkers with Dirty Megan. I proceeded to almost pass out. Whatever if going on with me is sorta scaring me. According to WebMD, I have MS, diabetes, heat exhaustion and a mild stroke. I should get those checked out.
Cheers to...um, well, nothing, because I hate doctor stuff.