I should have changed the fucking lock
I would have made you leave your key
If I'd have known for just one second
You'd be back to bother me
I know that my maturity level, lifestyle, sense of humor, hobbies and interests are those of a nineteen year old. I snowboard all the time. I kayak. I love to party. My life revolves around "Fun." For crying out loud, I have a room in my house I have dubbed, "The Beat Laboratory."
But yesterday and today, I really, really, really feel middle-aged.
Why, you ask?
About a month ago, I got up at 3 in the morning to pee, in and of itself a neon, flashing billboard that screams, "MIDDLE AGED!!!"
About three steps into this journey to the bathroom, I felt a stabbing pain in my lower left abdomen. It really hurt. I thought, "Wow. I pulled a muscle walking to pee in the middle of the night. What the fuck?"
I did my business, ignored it and went back to bed. It recurred in weird situations- bending down to tie my shoe, when I would twist to the side and pick up something heavy, things like that. I ignored it, figuring it would fix itself. This is par for the course- I don't really ever go to the doctor. I cracked a rib and slightly separated my shoulder last year, andthat was the one time I went to the doctor in the last five or so years.
Well, it didn't fix itself, and the stabbing pains continued. I had a phone conversation with the friendliest retired doctor I know, and he says, "You have a hernia."
"What?!"
"Lay down."
"O.K."
"Poke your belly button. Is it like you're pressing a balloon in and out?"
"Uh, yeah. And it's kind of cool."
"That's a hernia."
I go in for a surgical consult tomorrow.
Yes, I got a hernia walking to pee at 3 a.m.
If that's not middle-aged, I don't know what is.
But yesterday and today, I really, really, really feel middle-aged.
Why, you ask?
About a month ago, I got up at 3 in the morning to pee, in and of itself a neon, flashing billboard that screams, "MIDDLE AGED!!!"
About three steps into this journey to the bathroom, I felt a stabbing pain in my lower left abdomen. It really hurt. I thought, "Wow. I pulled a muscle walking to pee in the middle of the night. What the fuck?"
I did my business, ignored it and went back to bed. It recurred in weird situations- bending down to tie my shoe, when I would twist to the side and pick up something heavy, things like that. I ignored it, figuring it would fix itself. This is par for the course- I don't really ever go to the doctor. I cracked a rib and slightly separated my shoulder last year, andthat was the one time I went to the doctor in the last five or so years.
Well, it didn't fix itself, and the stabbing pains continued. I had a phone conversation with the friendliest retired doctor I know, and he says, "You have a hernia."
"What?!"
"Lay down."
"O.K."
"Poke your belly button. Is it like you're pressing a balloon in and out?"
"Uh, yeah. And it's kind of cool."
"That's a hernia."
I go in for a surgical consult tomorrow.
Yes, I got a hernia walking to pee at 3 a.m.
If that's not middle-aged, I don't know what is.
Labels: what the fuck?
posted by Joe at
8:45 AM
3 Comments
