It was probably during my high school years that my mother fell on the steps in our house and broke her ankle. I saw her fall and her ankle twisted outward at an odd angle. Before any of us could respond she took her ankle, bent it back into a more normal position and said, "There, now it will be OK." Of course it wasn't and she ended up with a cast but that maybe why I'm reluctant to go for medical help.
A few years back I was getting off our roof when the ladder slipped. I didn't really fall. The ladder was on our new, second story deck which is a maintenance free plastic sort of thing. The deck was slippery and the ladder didn't grab as it did on the old wood deck. I grabbed the rain gutter and swung down my shin banging the gas grill. If I were to rate the blows I've received through my life it was about a three, on a scale of one to ten. I steadfastly refused medical help until I developed a good case of cellulitis. Yes, I know, two surgeries and a long scar on my leg were my reward.
The next year a a dog bite on the inside of my thumb eventually led to an infection in the tendon sheath. I have a scar on my thumb and the inside of my wrist from the surgery to flush out the infection. Yes, I know, I should have learned my lesson with the injury to my shin.
Have you ever heard of a 'xiphoid process'? Well I hadn't until today. A couple of weeks ago I noticed a bump at the bottom of my sternum. Where did that come from? Has always been there? Is it changing? Growing? Sore? Well a little but is that because I keep pressing on it? Not wanting to make the mistake of the shin or thumb injury I went to see my doctor, well, actually she's Physician's Assistant and was youth in one of my former congregations. She said, "Have you lost weight?" I said, "Yes". "Well," she said, "that's when people notice their xiphiod process, the cartiginous joint of the floating ribs...perfectly normal."
So that's the story of how I've gone from stoic curmudgeon who will not seek medical help to a hypochondriac.
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