The fun thing about having a mystery ailment is everyone wants to help diagnose you and subsequently scare the ever loving crap out of you. We’re all doctors when we care!
On Friday, I noticed my right foot was swollen to twice its normal size and found a golf ball sized lump under the skin of my leg. Since this wondrous discovery some suggestions I’ve heard:
- a spider bite
- a severe blood clot
- “Oh my God, go to the Doctor right now”
- pregnant (babies are so 2002, no way)
- “You’re dying”
I finally got it checked out yesterday. Procrastination at it’s finest.
They unfairly made me get on a scale that resembled something cows would be shuffled onto to get their weight. They used words like needles, diabetes and gout. They asked how frequently I use illegal street drugs. Was I 893% sure I wasn’t pregnant?
They took an x-ray and found nothing.
They ran blood work and found nothing besides humor in the fact that I flipped my shiz over needles as I removed my cardigan, revealing multiple tattoos.
They decided it would be best to send me to the Emergency Room for an ultrasound of my leg. I cried.
The Emergency Room patrons frightened me. If I wasn’t sick when I came in, I was for sure going to be when I left.
I tried bribing some of the staff into speeding along the waiting process. They weren’t amused and would not comply. Ethical jerks with good morals. Unacceptable.
In the ultrasound room I had to take off my leggings and I counted my thanks that I had shaved my legs.
“We’re going to scan your whole leg,” translates to “I’m going to suddenly stick my hand up your dress and inside your underwear” in case you were curious. Saying to the tech (who I think was 13) “I wasn’t aware that was part of my leg” did not elicit laughter, a giggle or even a smirk.
They found nothing in the ultra sound. They found nothing anywhere. I stumped them all and there’s no Dr. House roaming the halls of any hospital in this county.
At the end of the day in an effort to get me to shut up and leave they determined those two plane rides and a week on my feet did my foot in for the time being. I paid two co-pays to find out my foot is just fat and ugly.
So, I’m not dying and I got felt up…er, down. Winning!
How was your day?