Walkerfowkeshemophobatibius

 

Have you ever had an ailment or an injury of your own?  I mean something the International Medical Association names after you, because you were the first; something like, Walkerfowkeshemophobatibius�?  (Sounds kinda deadly, dontcha think?)

What I’m actually referring to is any common every day, ailment�?problem, or whatever.  A summer cold, sprained your knee, pulled a muscle�?whatever.  You cannot have one of these problems on your own.  Really, you can’t, it’s impossible; there is always, and forever, someone out there that can develop the disease in 14 seconds flat!  

 Most of you I am sure, are probably a lot like me.  I do not revel in being sick or injured.  I hate it and I resent it, which is probably why my wife thinks I am such a baby.  I will piss and moan the whole time, not because I take some pathetic delight in the attention, no... not at all.  What I resent is being out of commission. So, if I am down with something, I would much rather be left alone with own misery. but it ain’t gonna happen.  Do you wanna know why, okay I’ll tell you.

Let’s take the summer cold, for instance.  The summer cold is one of the most miserable downers I can think of.  It’s not even a decent illness; it’s the bottom of the barrel, feel-bad-on-a-beautiful-day, ruin-your-vacation, sucks-the-big-one, corner store variety, mini-illness. 

So, here you are for about a week, eyes itchy and red, blew your nose so many time air even feels like sand paper, throat hurts, lungs feel full to capacity and you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired.  The house is empty, so you make some chicken broth, (you can’t hold the noodles down any more), a little green tea, jump into bed and surround yourself with tissues, aspirins, Echinacea, vitamin C and whatever else you can think of, grab the remote and try to find something on the television to take your mind off of, whatever it is ... that is kicking your sorry butt.  

 Then the front door opens without a knock and this too cheery voice yells, “Anybody home?�?nbsp; It’s your sister, neighbor or whoever it is that can invite thelmselves in without welcome.  Anyway, you answer in a barely audible voice your location.  She bounces and quizzes you on your apparent condition.

“Summer cold.�?You answer, hoping she will turn, run, and leave you alone. 

“Oh, I know just how you feel…�?she slowly replies.  And in 14 seconds, this once bubbly person has become puffy eyed with a red nose and is lying on the bed next to you sipping your chicken broth, hogging your tissues and searching for Oprah with your remote.  So much for private suffering, when someone said, “misery loves company�? this must be what they had on mind. 

 Just recently,  I have had hip problems.  I can’t stand up for more than 5 minutes at a time.  The pain is�?a bitch, if you will.  I finally gave in and decided to go see a doctor about it and maybe getting that cortisone shot, that seems to take care of those things; I ended up at a Sports Medical Clinic. (Yeah right, my 9-hour days at work consist of 6 hours sitting on bupkiss.  A real athlete.)  The doc told me that my hip is not the problem, (Easy for him to say, it’s not his arse that feels like it’s been skewered.), it’s my back... a disk has run off and joined the enemy.  Now I have to wait 2 months to see some neuro-spinal surgeon, or whatever.  

 I was really depressed. All I wanted was a shot, so I could go on with life; now I have to wait, and gimp, for something I probably won’t like�?like surgery or physiotherapy or something.  When I got home my neighbor came in and asked why I looked so down�?so I told her.

“Oh, I know just how you feel…�?/FONT>

Walker