One of my catchphrases (along with such classics as “This isn’t what it looks like,” “Sorry I’m late” and “No, it must have been the dog”) is “I’m old for my age.” I am of the distinct impression that it is abnormal for someone my age to have the regular chest pains I have, to have my bad back, knees, neck and everything else, and to feel as constantly run down as I.
Normally I’m the first to bitchslap people who think they know better than their doctor. They get lumped into the same category as people who decide that since scientists haven’t explained absolutely everything science is worthless. However, I do know that doctors are human. And sometimes they get lazy with diagnoses. For instance, an eleven-year-old boy comes into a pediatrician’s office complaining that his knees hurt. “Nothing to worry about,” says the doctor, “it’s just growing pains.”
Well, they never went away. They just got worse. Now I am in more or less constant pain. Not necessarily severe pain, but at any given point chances are something hurts: knees, feet, back, neck, pelvis, wrists, elbows, you name it. Of course I’ve grown to live with the pain, so I barely notice it unless it gets really bad.
Whoop! Time to take some muscle relaxants! Hmm… only a few left. I do notice some difference when these are in effect, but not much. Mainly I just get drunk a whole lot faster. Gah. I’m just waiting until medical technology advances to a point where I can get a spine replacement.
