On Saturday I carried a fridge-freezer home on my own. It was behind a wall
so I pulled it up by standing on top of the wall and lifting it vertically 4' (about 1219.2mm) first.
I am an idiot really, considering my previous spinal injuries, but I am loathe to cross Jim when she's, well . . awake, really.
Around twenty to nine last night I was quite suddenly in a quite considerable amount of chest pain. It was on the right, almost in my side, about 4 finger widths below and about 2 finger widths out from my right nipple and there was no way I could drive.
After speaking to the doctor I arranged for Ben to drive me to the hospital where some tests showed that I was not using my right lung properly.
I am not a doctor, but the overall impression I got is that I tore the muscles between my ribs lifting the fridge-freezer and, presumably because I kept up the strain, blood was able to fill the (small) voids in the tear and, somehow, act as padding.
What happened last night seems to have been the blood escaping from the tears, resulting in catastrophic pain.
Since this is all attributable to carrying a fridge freezer across the road, it probably wouldn't hurt so much if it wasn't for the fact that the new one is now being delivered on Thursday and this one taken away.
Anyway, a bit of pain isn't worth blogging about, but it is relevant to my central theme. It is pure chance that this should happen in the 3% of my life to date which this experiment will constitute when complete.
I have a strange habit of laughing when in pain. The ridiculousness of being incapacitated always grabs me. This is particularly idiotic when I have a chest injury because, in a cruel and vicious circle, the more I laugh, the more I am in pain and the more I laugh. Given that I was actually vomiting from pain at one point last night this seems daft.
Certainly the doctor seemed somewhat confused, but he countered with 'you haven't heard the best bit yet', upon which he produced a suppository.
I think the doctor was a little put out that I did it myself. He reacted badly, as if I was calling him gay and that bothered him (which it would not have done me) but the truth is that I wanted to be able to stop if it hurt, if you know what I mean? Sometimes it's easier to bear discomfort if you carry out the procedure yourself. It's a shame because he was a nice doctor.
It took me two attempts and, if anyone wants to know anything about suppositories, then I'd offer this advice:
Suppositories are cold.
I weigh something in the region of 195lbs
I am inserting a suppository
I weigh around 500mg + a small amount of what looks like candle wax more.
It being morning now, I actually weigh 196.5lbs
I am having a poo
I weigh 194lbs and was pleased to note that, what with it being 13 hours later, I will have absorbed all the pain relief by now.
By way of an apology for an unusually graphic post, I shall leave you with a Toy Dolls track which frankly has an appalling video: