"Would you like some Vicodin or Codeine for the pain?" asks the young and lovely Dr. Patel at Urgent Care this morning.
TAKE IT. YES. YOU NEED VICODIN. YOU LOVE VICODIN. VICODIN IS YOUR FRIEND. GET THE VICODIN. NOW. GET IT. NOW.That would be the wily little devil camped on my right shoulder.
Now, Hedy, the Advil is working just fine. You don't need anything stronger. And do you really want the temptation of Vicodin, which Jim calls your Bitch Pills, in the house again? Remember what you went through getting off that stuff after your knee surgeries? Be smart. Be like Nancy Reagan. Say no.Imagine harp music playing while the angel buzzing my left ear talks me down from the splendid and tempting offer for heavy drugs.
"No, thanks, the Advil is enough," I say, with a tiny bit of regret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, we almost made it two years," says Jim just now.
Yep. Injury-free for almost two years.
Tip: If you're going to fall and would like to maximize your embarrassment/horrification, do it right outside Union Station during rush hour where everyone congregates on benches.
If I hadn't been so shocked by suddenly sucking on the sidewalk, I would've leaped up and yelled "TA-DA!"
A few friendly tourists helped me up and offered me beer.
"How could you tell they were tourists?" asks Jim.
"Well, they had British accents and...they helped me up and offered me beer."
So I have a bruised bone at the base of my thumb. It's covered by a nifty black wrist brace, for broadcasting my bumbliness.
And the angel is doing back flips while the devil is flipping me off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Angel to You, Devil to Me - The Click Five
I am reading: My interview with Playboy's EVP of Interactive
And I am: Taking Advil
