Who Run the World?

So about two weeks ago I started having pain in my right quad when I ran. I at first thought it was because I didn't stretch properly. So, the next time I stretched extra long, but there was still pain. So, I took 3 days off. When I came back, the pain was still there. I thought maybe I was just being a wuss, and decided to push my leg. I realized that it only hurt when I was walking fast and/or jogging. It didn't hurt when I walked or sprinted. But the pain was getting worse, so I took a week off of running. After a week I decided that it might be a deep tissue charlie horse, so I started rubbing the muscle. As soon as I started massaging my leg, it started bruising. The pain was localized into a perfectly bruised circle. Being the hypochondriac that I am, I searched webmd, but came up with nothing. Then I started asking nurses at my work about it. One told me that it may be a blood-clot and I should get it checked out. So, I called my mom. And she freaked out thinking that it was a blood-clot and made me promise to get it checked out, because my grandmother has a long history of blood-clots that almost killed her.

So I went to instacare in Provo, only to be sent to Springville because they were closing early for their holiday party. The lady at the front desk told me that if it was a blood-clot, I would have to go to the hospital. I sat in the waiting room for 50 minutes (even though the sign said the wait time was less than 30 minutes) thinking of myself sitting all alone in a hospital gown, in some random hospital room.

When I finally made it in, the doctor looked at me like the hypochondriac that I am. I felt stupid. He had me put on these hospital shorts that were out of control. I left my camping socks on just to make it more ridiculous. When the doctor saw the bruise, his face fell. Not so encouraging to someone who didn't want to spend her Friday night in the hospital. He started making these concerned "hmms" over and over again as he touched different parts of my legs. Finally he stated that he didn't think it was a blood-clot because there wasn't a significant amount of swelling in my lower legs. He told me he thought it was bleeding stress fractures in my femur. I strutted around the office in my short shorts and camping socks on my way to the x-ray room. The x-ray tech looked as though she didn't believe this could just show up. I'm pretty sure everyone in the office thinks my boyfriend beats me.

A million x-rays later and I have a "clean" femur. The diagnosis came out to a tear in my muscle and a hemotoma.

The doctor also said that I can't run for "weeks". I asked, "How many?" He stated, "Weeks and weeks". I asked "How many weeks and weeks?" He responded, "Let's just say, you will not run for weeks and weeks. And then, when you start, you will SLOWLY work up, but if there is any pain, you need to see a sport's therapist."

When I was leaving, I asked the doctor if I could get a note to get out of work. He just started laughing. I said, "I'm serious! Help me out a little!" He just walked away.

I feel like a cripple and I have nothing to show for it. No leg brace, no time off of work to "rest", and no temporary handicap parking permit. This could possibly the worst pseudo-injury ever.

I called and talked to my dad, and told him what happened. He stated, "That's weird. Well, you're weird so I guess it works."

'Till The World Ends

So I've started a new book. It's called "The Road", and it's inspired me to plan what I would do if I were one of the last two people alive.

First of all, I would never repopulate the Earth. For starters, our sex drive will probably have disappeared due to malnutrition. Secondly, who would marry us? Would God send down an angel like with Adam and Eve? Any child born to us would literally be a bastard child. And with me as a parent, the children won't have much of chance at success anyways. Also, there are too many complications that go along with childbirth. I mean, the odds of me surviving that without an epidural are minuscule. The book talked about having a baby in the kitchen and cutting the chord with kitchen shears. No thank you.

I would most definitely go all Britney Spears circa 2007, and shave my head. It's not going to be like "The Walking Dead" where I am perfectly covered in dirt and my hair is still perfectly curled.

I will probably not have any beef with cannibalism. Yes, the pun was intended. I know, I know about the Donner party, but I think they just didn't know how to prepare the meat properly.

I would immediately start travelling south to a warmer climate. I would hoard things like guns, gasoline, batteries, razors (because we all know that our cultural norm of shaved legs will not go away), and blankets.

If the end does include a trek to Missouri, I will most definitely be blasting St. Lunatics and Britney Spears from the battery powered speakers in my wagon.

All American

So, I'm still alive. I survived a meeting with my HK stalker. It made for a hilarious time. I realized though, I'm turning into my mother. I can't say no to crazies (unless it's at work of course).

Highlights of the Red Robin housed experience included my HK friends bringing a friend who is from Mexico. They spoke Spanish together, I spoke Cantonese to them, and I spoke Spanglish to their friend. The waiter spoke Spanish, so they all spoke Spanish with the waiter and we (my mission trainee and I) spoke English to the waiter. Confused? Much of the conversation had to be re-translated into multiple languages. I of course kept speaking Mandarin which no one understood. I was having mission flashbacks the entire time.

It went a TON better than I thought it was going to. I haven't received any follow up texts, so I think he may have gotten the hint that I'm not interested. Plus, I made sure to only shake his hand when I left.

As my mom always says, "They're just another person to write into your book of characters". Thanks Mom, I appreciate the "attracting weirdos" gene you so graciously gave me.