24 October 2001 (again)

Well, we always knew I was bad at following orders; I guess here's evidence of it. I've been instructed for weeks now, at least daily: "Don't break the M'rissa!" But could I listen? Evidently not.

The diagnosis is two fractured ribs. "You're not a very big person," said the doctor, "and it's a very big cough." So. Four to six weeks, and the down side is there's nothing much I can do about it. The up side is that there's nothing much I can do to make it worse unless I fall heavily on those ribs (they're the two right under my right breast, for those of you who deserve that level of detail; bonus for the rest of you). I can keep doing whatever I want to, as long as it doesn't hurt. And I've got a cough suppressant to keep the cough at bay for the last few days of this virus, and our good friend Advil is supposed to keep me company for the rest of the time.

Heh. The doctor was not my usual one, but I liked her. She paid attention and had me pegged. As she was verifying that the ribs were cracked, she said, "Now, I know some people don't like to take a lot of medicine, but...." Yeah, well.

Anyway, I'm a bit bemused over all this, and I (obviously) hurt, but it could be a lot worse. I didn't feel good enough to run errands, though, so we still need stamps and plums and all manner of things. It'll keep. I'm going to get a bit more work done and read the last of The Spirit Ring and listen to oddments and old favorite songs with Timprov. He got a goodly bit of work done in the waiting room at the doctor's and can thus fiddle with the computer and CD player without feeling like he ought to be doing something else.

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