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.
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.