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Monday, December 11, 2006

The Small Black Lump Near My Lungs ...

... so I stopped eating and drinking last night around 9pm, read some more of Stephen King's Cell, and went to sleep. I woke up, took Emerald to school, and then made my way to the doctor's office. They lady who takes my blood is hella nice and has just now started remembering who I am, so that's cool. They took three vials of blood away from my right arm and gave me a kit to take home so that I can save some little pieces of my poop so that they can study it for bad things. I had to do it a year or two ago and it's not much fun. Not looking forward to it. Then I had to go in the lobby with Natasha and Bela and wait for the x-ray technician to get done with a few patients so that they could check out my lungs. We waited for over an hour and a half, a long time to wait in a packed waiting room with a bunch of fat old christian ladies talking about sewing and grandchildren and how much of a genius Mel Gibson is. But somehow Isabela managed to be the most well behaved little fourteen month old little girl ever and I got to spend an hour and a half playing with Bela before the nice x-ray guy called me back. Made me feel calm, as calm as I could under the circumstances. I expected, having only my knowledge of getting x-rays done when I was a kid, that I would have to lay down on a slab and wear an iron vest and all this stuff. No, I took off my shirt and had to lean against the wall as some computer-camera made some deep growling noises. Took about a minute. When it was all done I had to wait for the pictures to get developed, so Bela and Natasha came into the room with me and I kissed little Bela and held my breath. I was nervous as hell.

The nice x-ray man came back about two minutes later with the results under an arm. I didn't think the whole thing would happen so quickly. I thought I'd have more time to be worried but no. In an instant the x-ray was done and the results were here. The guy walked us all into his office and slapped the x-ray pics up on the wall. We all took a look. I could feel my breath getting shallow. I saw a lump, a small black lump the size of a meatball on the bottom right of the screen, near the bottom of my ribs. I feared the worst. Already in my mind I was thinking I'd be bald and in a wheelchair like Andy Kaufman right before he died in Man on the Moon. I could feel myself not breathing. And then, suddenly, the x-ray technician said "Wellp, it looks good!" What? "You're all healthy!" B-b-b-but ... what about THAT? That thing there, the small black lump on the bottom right of the x-ray, the black thing by the bottom of my ribs, what's that? He says, "Wellp, that's your stomach. What'd you have fer breakfast?" And that's when I realized I hadn't eaten in a very long time.


So, some coffee and a medium Mr. Pibb and a double quarter pounder with cheese and a medium fries and some Pepsi and some Dreyer's grand chocolate chip ice cream later, I am happy to say that so far everything's fine with me and my body. They might find something bad with the blood work and the poop samples but so far it looks like the screaming white headaches and the dizzyness and the joint pain and the stabbing chest pains and the super mad painful bleeding stomach pain is all just a result of stress and depression. So they have me on some stomach medicine that makes me dizzy and they have me on Paxil, an antidepressant that make me spaced out and happy and mellow. Hopefully these pills will stop the pain and make me less stressed and make all the painful ailments go away. I had a bad scare today. I don't want that to happen again.


Let the bodies hit the floor


In some petty little work news, last night I caught Perry bitching about me after I left. I was supposed to have gone but Natasha forgot something so I went and read some magazines and caught him bitching loudly at Lance about me. So I walked out and told him to tell it to my face. He complained that he had to help TWO PEOPLE in kids and had to answer a PHONE CALL and how I wasn't training my people right. I tried to tell him my story but he didn't care what I had to say and walked away from me as I was talking to him.


My wife says I shouldn't be pissed off about that. And I'm not. And I'll tell you why. Perry is the bargain manager. That's all. He's the manager of bargain. And nothing else. He cares about bargain and the bargain section and bargain books and bargain backstock and working on bargain and opening bargain boxes and shelving bargain books. Anything else he has to do that DOESN'T involve bargain he immediately makes someone else do. He cares only about bargain. He's the bargain manager. I mean, sure he's the "assistant store manager" (with finger quotes) but he focuses too unduly on bargain to the poing where anyone else who isn't involved with bargain usually gets the shaft.


I might seem cold and bitter. And I'm not. It's the truth. Perry sees everyone with a barcode sticker on the botton right of their shirts. True dat.

5 comments:

jessecoombs said...

When I was feeling real shitty and going through a lot of stress, you know in the second half of 2005, my eating habits were fucked up and for some reason I broke out with all types of acne. Stress can can have more than mental effects. That's good though, one less thing to worry about, right?

gwen said...

I'm glad the news has so far been good, Steve. I hope it ends being as simple and changing your diet and exercising more.

And I hope tonight you're feeling more relaxed in general just having that weight lifted. :-)

Reverend Steve said...

Gwen, no such luck on the "more relaxed" thing. Had a fight with Emerald. She wasn't listening to me and giving me crap. Plus Bela does nothing but shriek nonstop. Tasha gave her a peanut butter jelly sandwitch, too, and she just opened it up and rubbed it all over her hair and face and body. Nasty.

Hope no one at work takes the Perry bit at the end too seriously, too.

But I'm right.

gwen said...

Does it help that you may indeed be relieved of at least one of your dear children on Friday night? :-)

Hang in there, Steve. There are times when my dear, sweet kids give me the urge to jump out the nearest window. As much as I love them there are times when I wish they would simply shut the hell up. Like tonight when Julia wanted to play video games and I said no. She pushed and whined until I yelled at her to stop and then said "You don't like me." and proceeded to tear up as if I was a horrible mother who doesn't even like her own kid.

Don't worry about Perry. He's a bit on the cranky side and everybody knows it. Although he is always happy at least temporarily when given food. Approach him with a plate of something edible next time you see him and I'm sure all will be well.

But in all seriousness Steve, I understand about stress. This last year has been the most stressful in my life and sometimes I don't know how I'm going to REALLY push through and reach my goals to make our life better.

Reverend Steve said...

Thanks Gwen. And Jesse. I'm hella stressed out. I try to hide it and when I'm at work I try to hide it all and forget about the yelling and screaming at home by working waaaaay beyond my physical and mental capacity, carrying too many books and doing way too much. Then to have Perry badmouth me really pissed me off. Anyhoo, thanks for your kind words. Maybe I'll start dieting sometime next year. Or maybe late 2008. Well see.