(Why do these places always look like a horror movie is about to happen?)
What occurred during the almost three hours I spent at the doctor's office today can only be described as comical. Because the only thing I can do is laugh at my luck. Because really, it takes a special kind of person -- someone with real talent -- to end up with the diagnosis I received.
Also, I take back everything I said in my last post.
Because apparently I have the symptoms for -- wait for it -- whooping cough. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am potentially a total nightmare for small children and old people. Granted, I won't know for sure until I get my swab test results back, but because of the public health hazard, the doctor had to treat me as if I do have it. So I'm on antibiotics now. And I'm not supposed to leave the house until (a) I find out for sure I don't have whooping cough or (b) I find out I do have whooping cough and the antibiotics kick in.
Which I guess is a good thing since the doctor also thinks I have a stress fracture and shouldn't use my foot at all until the pain is completely gone. My x-ray came out negative, but hairline breaks don't always show up in x-rays, so I have to go back to the doctor next week for a bone scan. And I also have to use crutches. Which I am absolutely terrible at using, so the nurse felt sorry for me and ordered a wheelchair so I could be wheeled out of the doctor's office to my car.
(That moment when you miss two elevators because you can't get wheeled inside fast enough before the doors close. And then everyone stares at you with sad, pitying looks on their faces. And then finally when you do catch an elevator, it's because an elderly woman holds the door open for you. And the whole time you're in said elevator, you keep apologizing to the people around you because you're taking up so much space.)
What occurred during the almost three hours I spent at the doctor's office today can only be described as comical. Because the only thing I can do is laugh at my luck. Because really, it takes a special kind of person -- someone with real talent -- to end up with the diagnosis I received.
Also, I take back everything I said in my last post.
Which I guess is a good thing since the doctor also thinks I have a stress fracture and shouldn't use my foot at all until the pain is completely gone. My x-ray came out negative, but hairline breaks don't always show up in x-rays, so I have to go back to the doctor next week for a bone scan. And I also have to use crutches. Which I am absolutely terrible at using, so the nurse felt sorry for me and ordered a wheelchair so I could be wheeled out of the doctor's office to my car.
(That moment when you miss two elevators because you can't get wheeled inside fast enough before the doors close. And then everyone stares at you with sad, pitying looks on their faces. And then finally when you do catch an elevator, it's because an elderly woman holds the door open for you. And the whole time you're in said elevator, you keep apologizing to the people around you because you're taking up so much space.)
Also worth noting: Do not try to tip the guy who wheels your wheelchair because he will reject your money and the whole experience will be horribly awkward. Because apparently even though your broken body feels like a pile of ugly luggage, this does not mean the guy who wheels the wheelchair is the bellboy.
So yes: Today kind of sucked.
So yes: Today kind of sucked.
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