Feel like you've been hit in the back with a bag of masonry?
Woo, yes. And then someone stuck a great big knife under my shoulder blade with evil tentacles that reach round the ribs.
Please, god, do not let me sneeze again. Not fun.
I'd say yes on your self-diag
I'm extremely good at it :-) Now I just have to persuade doctor of same. "I'm right to think I need to see the rheumy? And do my shoulder physio? And can I have 10mg of amitriptyline for night-time zonkiness? Kthxbie."
I'm the polar opposide from you :) The girl who injures herself without trying and doesn't get to ignore it. Ambulance! X-rays! Minions!
Cramps tearing out my innards? Meh. I'll be over here trying to do some work, kay? Just don't get between me and the bathroom door for the next three days. Or between me and the really good, 85% cocoa Lindt dark chocolate.
I was the kid the other kids didn't dare touch in case they did something to me and got into trouble :-) And I *still* ended up in the nurse's office being told "but you caaaaan't do that without traumatic incident". I'm sorry, I have, tough poo poo. Now are you going to help me put my knee back or do I have to visit the A&E for the second time this month?
I may do a World Tour so the pissed-as-rats thing could become a reality
*ggg* I have tons of space and two exceedingly bad cats to play with. And, er, minimal vacation time :-( Damn Canadian vacation policies.
You mean be Gisborne to your Sheriff?
*produces silky black PJs and rakish evil smile* I can do that :-) I lounge well.
I'd try to be Blofeld, but my cats don't sit still long enough to do the intimidating stroking of cats while threatening with piranah tanks. Kate would find her Blue Snake and want to play fetch (there is canine DNA in that animal's history) and Annie would want to cuddle whoever we were torturing.
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Date: 2009-04-07 06:28 pm (UTC)*hides bottles of wine*
*and cans of pear cider*
I'd never do that! :-)
Feel like you've been hit in the back with a bag of masonry?
Woo, yes. And then someone stuck a great big knife under my shoulder blade with evil tentacles that reach round the ribs.
Please, god, do not let me sneeze again. Not fun.
I'd say yes on your self-diag
I'm extremely good at it :-) Now I just have to persuade doctor of same. "I'm right to think I need to see the rheumy? And do my shoulder physio? And can I have 10mg of amitriptyline for night-time zonkiness? Kthxbie."
I'm the polar opposide from you :) The girl who injures herself without trying and doesn't get to ignore it. Ambulance! X-rays! Minions!
Cramps tearing out my innards? Meh. I'll be over here trying to do some work, kay? Just don't get between me and the bathroom door for the next three days. Or between me and the really good, 85% cocoa Lindt dark chocolate.
I was the kid the other kids didn't dare touch in case they did something to me and got into trouble :-) And I *still* ended up in the nurse's office being told "but you caaaaan't do that without traumatic incident". I'm sorry, I have, tough poo poo. Now are you going to help me put my knee back or do I have to visit the A&E for the second time this month?
I may do a World Tour so the pissed-as-rats thing could become a reality
*ggg* I have tons of space and two exceedingly bad cats to play with. And, er, minimal vacation time :-( Damn Canadian vacation policies.
You mean be Gisborne to your Sheriff?
*produces silky black PJs and rakish evil smile* I can do that :-) I lounge well.
I'd try to be Blofeld, but my cats don't sit still long enough to do the intimidating stroking of cats while threatening with piranah tanks. Kate would find her Blue Snake and want to play fetch (there is canine DNA in that animal's history) and Annie would want to cuddle whoever we were torturing.