Another Day, Another Doctor’s Visit
I have a cold. And it’s about 1,000 degrees outside. I hate that.
Anyway, Dr. McFeely had little news to report on my bum leg today. He scheduled me for an MRI on Monday. They asked me if I was claustrophobic or had any metal in my body, and I briefly thought about how on House, one of the best shows ever, a guy with tattoos had horrifying pain in an MRI. I was going to mention the tattoo on my foot, but then I remembered that only prison tats have metal in them. Good thing I had those tears removed.
I should go swimming tonight, and I actually really want to, but I can barely breath on land. I might die under water.
The other thing I want to do is EAT. Does everybody have hungry-hungry days, or just me? In a perfect world, I would have a burger and fries and chicken wings and a banana split with a scoop of chocolate fudge brownie, a scoop of coffee and maybe a scoop of cookies ‘n; cream or peanut butter. I don’t know if I can hold out. I might go buy some fries soon.
Physical therapy is going fine. Stacy taught me some exercises that should strengthen my quadriceps and some little muscle in my calf that sounds like “Solaris,” which I think was a really bad movie. But I didn’t see it, so I’m open to the possibility that the movie was ok.
My concern at this point is that I won’t be ready to run in time for the Mud Run. This simply CAN’T happen, because I will simply DIE if I cannot compete as part of the Dirt Flirts.
That’s right, we have a name. Katy, Kristin, Grace, Caitlin and I are Dirt Flirts. I don’t really know what that means, but Caitlin pointed out that we are listed right before the Dirty Bastards, and that suits me just fine.
So, now I’m in short term goal mode. I will compete as a Dirt Flirt. I will be the Dirt Flirtiest ever.
Mmmmmm, fries.
Anyway, Dr. McFeely had little news to report on my bum leg today. He scheduled me for an MRI on Monday. They asked me if I was claustrophobic or had any metal in my body, and I briefly thought about how on House, one of the best shows ever, a guy with tattoos had horrifying pain in an MRI. I was going to mention the tattoo on my foot, but then I remembered that only prison tats have metal in them. Good thing I had those tears removed.
I should go swimming tonight, and I actually really want to, but I can barely breath on land. I might die under water.
The other thing I want to do is EAT. Does everybody have hungry-hungry days, or just me? In a perfect world, I would have a burger and fries and chicken wings and a banana split with a scoop of chocolate fudge brownie, a scoop of coffee and maybe a scoop of cookies ‘n; cream or peanut butter. I don’t know if I can hold out. I might go buy some fries soon.
Physical therapy is going fine. Stacy taught me some exercises that should strengthen my quadriceps and some little muscle in my calf that sounds like “Solaris,” which I think was a really bad movie. But I didn’t see it, so I’m open to the possibility that the movie was ok.
My concern at this point is that I won’t be ready to run in time for the Mud Run. This simply CAN’T happen, because I will simply DIE if I cannot compete as part of the Dirt Flirts.
That’s right, we have a name. Katy, Kristin, Grace, Caitlin and I are Dirt Flirts. I don’t really know what that means, but Caitlin pointed out that we are listed right before the Dirty Bastards, and that suits me just fine.
So, now I’m in short term goal mode. I will compete as a Dirt Flirt. I will be the Dirt Flirtiest ever.
Mmmmmm, fries.
posted by Daphne at 12:34 PM
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