Monday, April 18, 2011

The Ribs of An Old Cat

My family went to Tahoe for a week with a whirlwind side-trip to Disneyland, which is why I haven't been writing. It was very fun, but it made me quite tired. Skiing was perfect on two days and not as nice on a third. I got to see my kids have a ton of fun and that is the best kind of fun that I ever have.

Today has been the Catch Up Day, full of finding all the lost things and putting them on the calendar, cleaning like I haven't done a thing in two weeks, and there have been Oreos going into my tummy. Yummy Oreos.  Double Stuff. Stuff I need to resist but can't. I don't buy it, mind you, but I help make it go away. To my middle. (Heavy sigh.)

I think I broke a rib, too. For real, this time, and not just pulling a muscle. There is an actual spot where the pain is the most intense, not just a general area of pain like before. I was on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland and I was being bounced around like I was going to get whiplash for sure and when I got off the ride, I had pain in my back and side. I like to complain about pain more than the next guy, I'm sure, but I tried to be a stoic and ignore it as best I could. When I got in the car, however, for the long ride home, I poked my fingers around my rib cage to figure out what exactly was hurting.

When my finger hit the Spot of Pain, it was so intensely sharp that the gruesome scene in Inglorious Basterds came to mind when Brad Pitt's character stuck his finger in the bullet wound of that woman's leg. Ouch!

All I can wonder is how long it's going to take to stop hurting. (10-days, Mr. Anonymous?) I like to remember back to my Army days when I was in the best shape of my life. I would love to have the boundless energy and pain-free feeling again. I had the body of a kitten and once did 83 push ups for a PT test. I felt like I could do anything and I would give almost anything to feel like that again. To have that body again. To be able to eat all the Oreos I want without them hanging around like an unwanted party guest who just won't leave. That's life, I guess. There are quite a few things I wouldn't trade to stay exactly where I am, right at this moment, flaws and all. With age comes wisdom, even if it comes with a certain amount of physical deterioration.

I'll take it. I'm happy. Rib pain and all.


Anonymous said...


Ahhh, Oreos the Snickers of the cookie world.

Thanks for the shout out! The Doctor is In:

•Whether broken or bruised, rib injuries take 3-6 weeks to heal.

BTW: No one likes a show off (83 push-ups)!

Mr. Anonymous

Anonymous said...

Mr. Anonymous' Daily Musing:

Apparently, 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese. There are 5 people in my family, so it's got to be one of them. It's either my mom or my dad. Or maybe my older brother John. Or my younger brother Ho-Chan-Chu. I'm pretty sure it's John.

ckh said...

You really crack me up. Perhaps you are the reason for my rib pain!

My online medical school tells me that pain management is the way to go to make sure I can breathe without pain. I still have some Vicodin from my surgery and I'm not afraid to use it.

Anonymous said...

Last night my parents broke the news to me that my real name is Mr. Chanonymous - so I'm actually the Chinese one. Who knew!?! Though that plobabry exprains my inabirity to plonounce my R's collectry.

Mr. Chanonymous

Anonymous said...

And my uncontrollable urge to play jokes and put pee-pee in my cokes.

Mr. (Ch)Anonymous

Anonymous said...

It's been over two weeks - this blog is as dead as Bin Laden.

Mr. Anonymous