Game Called on Account of Pain

When life gives you lemons...sometimes it's only a prelude to the rotten tomatoes that life has just hurled at your head - DUCK!


So, it's another Saturday, and I'm working again. I'm replacing a Big deck around a Big swimming pool - and not a rectangular pool, mind you - a 12 sided pool, and the boards from each side have to miter up perfectly with the boards from the next side, so the deck makes just the prettiest "frame" around the pool. It will be a thing of beauty when it's completed, but at the moment, it's a huge pain in the butt. I underestimated how long the job would take and now I'm hurrying to get it done - and it's just not a job you can hurry - -

Wow, I just read this back and realized what you might be thinking - "and in my rush to get the boards cut I didn't realize that I had inadvertantly put my right leg on the table saw. As I turned on the lethal machine, the roar of it's angry engine and the ringing of blade shredding muscle and bone combined with my own horriffic screams in a twisted three part harmony strangely remniscent of Sweeney Todd as I watched my dreams of being a RiverDancer wash away in a stream of blood and sawdust. The horror.....the horror".

Yeah...that didn't happen. Although it's a helluva lot more exciting than what did happen - maybe I should turn to fiction - give those big time writers a run for their money (did you hear that? Stephen King was literally quaking in his boots - listen again......there! You must have heard it that time!)

So anyway, what did happen was, in the midst of my work, I was struck by a strange, quite uncomfortable abdominal pain on my right side. It seemed the more I worked, the worse it got. Luckily, it began to rain and I had a good excuse to go home early, which I did. By the time I got home and into bed, the pain had spread across my entire abdominal region, most of my chest and up into my shoulders and back. I found the least uncomfortable position in which to lie down, and slept on and off for the next 20 hours.

I woke up on Sunday feeling almost 100% better, and was about to commence my celebratory "I'm Feeling Better Happy Dance" (don't look at me that way - you know you do it too) , when the pain returned, this time on the left side, and started to climb upward once more. Since the preceding night had been...well...Excrutiating, I decided to see if I could avoid another full blown episode and drove myself over to the Emergency Room. Above the entrance to the ER is a sign that says RapidCare, and it made my smile a bit - "Thats what I'm looking for, all right - RapidCare! Treat me and Street me! Git 'er Done!!" I'm surprised I could fit through the door, being that full of naivety and blind hope.

Long story short, RapidCare ain't so Rapid. They kept me overnight in the Cardiac Care Unit. Now, I knew perfectly well that the problem wasn't with my heart, and I think they knew it too, but anytime there's chest pain involved they keep you in cardiac care until they're absolutely sure that you won't have a heart attack as you leave the hospital. It's actually quite a symbiotic relationship - by caring about your heart, they're covering their ass. When they did actually release me on Monday, they still didn't have a clue what was wrong with me, I was still in pain, but my heart had been checked out eight ways to Sunday, so we certainly knew that it wasn't that.

So that was Monday. Still in pain, albeit less, on Tuesday - I work for as long as I can, then go to see my regular doc. He's not sure what it could be either, but let's get a CT scan of the colon, just for giggles. The scanning facility can see me Thursday which works out great, as Wednesday the pain has returned as bad as it was that first Saturday and I don't even want to move. Thursday comes, I get my CT scan done, then rush off to work. I get to the job and realize that I'm actually feeling much better. About half way through the workday I can hear the theme song for the aforementioned "I'm Feeling Better Happy Dance" playing in the disco of my mind and, when no one is looking, I shake my butt in time with the tune. "It must have been a virus", I think to myself. "Ooooh, and a nasty one, too - but I stood strong, and I beat it! Yeah, that's right, ya danged virus! Who bad? We Bad! I am Strong! I am Invincible! I am Debt Daddeeeeeeee!!!!!"

Ow. Sudden pain in my head. Must've been singing to myself too loudly. Oh, well - it'll pass.

Well, it didn't pass. The pain in my head got progressively worse as this vile disease (which I have now decided to name "Quico" - loosely translated as a devil with no name) decided it would be fun to sprinkle shards of glass all around my eye sockets. I finished work for the day and attended two back to school nights, all the while trying to ignore the jackhammer that Quico was plunging into my brain. Finally went to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

That brings us to today. I woke up this morning to the sounds of Quico triggering a controlled demolition in my cerebral cortex. As I write this, I have exquisite pain in my head and eyes; dull, throbbing pain in my left shoulder and beneath the lower right portion of ribcage, and a bit of fair to middlin' burning pain in my upper back.

Frankly, I'm bored with it. Or more to the point, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. It's like that line from the movie "City Slickers" - "if you're gonna kill me, than kill me - otherwise, shut up!"

It's been nearly a week, Quico. Time to put up or shut up. I'm worth half a mil in a pine box, so if that's where we're going with this, let's just hurry up and get there. Otherwise, Back Off.

I've got work to do.