I don’t know what it is, but I hope it’s a wasted trip to the doctor. I normally wouldn’t worry about such a piddly little pain in my leg, but this is kind of a weird one. It hurts a bit when I walk, but it’s been gradually growing in pain area since about a week ago. There isn’t any bruising, so it’s not like I got hit there and the injury just spread, but it’s also not like a pulled muscle, because it doesn’t go away. It’s just weird. I guess it could have something to do with walking through the fields when I take our boy for his walks, or maybe it has to do with lugging this bulky frame around on these weak, little spindles. Whatever it is, I’m told I should be getting it looked at.
As a general rule, I am very healthy. No blockages, heart is strong, low cholesterol levels, etc…. The problem is that I have an inch of belly fat that I should be getting rid of. My friend Adam at Adam’s Boot Camps has been bugging me to get out there with him to get fit, and I’ve been bugging him to write a Saturday fitness blog on here. I guess nothing is going to happen until one of us throws down the gauntlet, so there it is. I guess there is no reason that we can’t incorporate the two, right?
I mean, there is no blog post on the weekends anyhow, so it’s not like the readership can go down. There has also been no one else stepping in and saying they would like to write any guest posts, or otherwise here and there, so I guess that leaves lots of open room for us to work together. I also don’t think that it will hurt us all to learn a little about taking care of ourselves.
Now Adam has a pretty unique set-up in the fact that he can come to you, because he has a mobile gym, and because he knows that sometimes you just can’t find the time to make it to the gym. I am pretending to know all these things about why Adam can come to you, but in fact I don’t. I’m just speculating, because up until now, every time I’ve seen him near his MobileFit studio, I’ve quickly spouted some bullshit about my sore knee, hip, spleen, and run along my way. It’s not that I don’t want to see inside of it, but I’m afraid if he gets me in there, he might trap me and make me exercise. It’s not as if a little fatty like myself could fight off a big strapping lad like him, so I briskly walk by, with my chest puffed out to take the eyes away from my bulging gut.
I really don’t know if my current problem is related to my chubbiness or not, but it can’t be helping, and my Nan has been coming to my mom in dreams lately, and telling her that we all need to get rid of our belly fat, so there’s that as well. I will admit that I am a little worried when something like this pops up, only because of all of the cancer scares and deaths we’ve had.
Fucking cancer. Isn’t it sad that all it takes is a little bit of strange pain in my leg, and I automatically go to the bad place? I mean look at the probability of this scenario. Maybe one in a thousand chance that something like this could be cancer, and I immediately think I should be getting it checked out. I fucking well wouldn’t do that if I were in the States, would I? (The answer is no.) I’d be waiting until the thing that I imagine is a lump was a definite lump, and then I would maybe go in and let my doctor have a look.
Jesus, I’m the problem with our healthcare system. I’m the reason these people can keep billing OHIP for all of these visits to the emergency rooms and walk-in clinics. When I popped my rib out on St. Patty’s Day, lots of people told me it would go back in on it’s own, but I went into the walk-in clinic in Port Hope anyway, and was whisked through without even an examination. I did, however, get a sidelong glance, and that’s more than most of the others got, so I guess I’m the lucky boy. That doctor got to charge our healthcare system a set fee for examining me, and four other people, in less than ten minutes.
What the fuck? Seems like a pretty good gig to me. I just don’t get it sometimes, but then again, maybe I’m not supposed to. I am just supposed to keep doing what “The Man” tells me to do, and allot a certain amount of funds to whoever they want me to. That’s the way it’s always been, so what’s the point of changing it now? There is always going to be people that are smarter, faster, and more crooked than us, so why bother fighting it? Just get your paycheck, take half of it to Walmart, use the rest for paying your rent, mortgage, bills, or whatever else you’ve got, and hope you can get a couple of hours in overtime, because it’s a long weekend, and you might like a twelve pack of Silver Bullets.
Anyhow, I guess this blog is called Change The Topic for a reason. Adam, if you read this, give me a call, I’ll be at the hospital in Trenton this morning, getting my leg cancer looked at. They had better cure it, because I hate crutches and wheelchairs, but then again those springy running legs look pretty neat. I could get used to them, probably.
I got a bad case of sneeze, I got wobbly knees, call me hairy hypochondriac,
P.S. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to your parents?