Dr. Duh Medicine Moron

Today I am in blinding mortal pain, despite me not being mortal. Or blind. But I’m in pain. And BOY IS IT PAINFUL. I have 3 canker sores on the inside of my mouth, one on the tip of my tongue, one on the side of my tongue and one on the flat top surface.

It’s more painful than it sounds, and in fact, it was the entire reason I had to go to the doctors the other day, in which they found nothing with my tongue.

Good job, Dr. Duh, Medicine Moron.

So today, before I stopped off at the Fish Mongors place to return some of his wife’s clothing articles, torrid affair, anyway, I headed to Burger King (pure product placement, they better start sending me sh*t) for a refreshing cold coke flavored icee. Anyway, point is, since I’m not going to class aftr MultiMedia, I’m naked without my backpack. So instead, I have my pad of paper and pen for notes, and a small flexible lunchbag with one can of Diet Coke (send me stuff) and Listerine (send me stuff).

What a weird thing that would be huh? Listerine Product Placement. Get boxes of Listerine forever just because you mentioned their name in one measly blog entry. That’d be flippin’ awesome.

Anyway, pain, listerine, burger king, and diet coke. I hurt for pure shameless product placement plugs.

MW

Asthmetic Dustmiteitus

So, today I went to the doctors (skin section) of Kaiser at 2:30 to check out some sort of rash I’ve developed on my second head. After they discovered that the second head wasn’t mine, but was actually some guy named Fred, who, in a bizzare turn of coincidences, had superglued himself to my shirt on friday, they pulled him off and they found the rash was only on HIS head.

Fred has cancer.

But enough about Fred. I, on the other hand, not nearly as interesting, dashingly handsome, or unlucky as Fred, had to take a test on my breathing to see whether or not I have Asthma and am allergic to anything. Now the way this test is done is they take little white needle points and put them into your arm, kinda pricking your arm, doesn’t hurt much. But they put these numbers and letters on both sides of your arms. F1 For Food1, F2 for Food2, that sorta thing. Animals, outdoors, like plants and leaves and grass and trees and the whathaveyous of the outdoorsey things. So then they make you sit in a waiting room for about 15 minutes.

I was there for 5 hours.

The image at the top of this post, is a picture of my arm, which now looks like I have some sort of foreign tattoo that indites me to some sort of evil club to kill political leaders. It’s actually just 14 shots I had put in to see what else would be harmful to me. The results:

I have something that they call “Asthmetic Dustmiteitus”.

It’s Asthma & allergies to DustMites, which of course are FREAKING EVERYWHERE. I spent 5 hours at a doctors skin care wing only to find out I have those 2 things wrong with me, geez! All they did with Fred was pry him off my back and within’ 5 minutes they knew he had Cancer, is Asthma REALLY that hard to identify, harder than cancer? I mean, come on! Who, in retrospect, ISN’T ALLERGIC TO DUSTMITES?! And in all fairness, how friggin’ hard is it to find out somebody has Asthma? I have a way of finding that out which would cut my time in half.

First, take somebody to the bottom of Mount Everest, and if they can climb 5 feet without problems breathing, they don’t have Asthma.

PROBLEM SOLVED.

And my condolances to Fred’s family.
May he rest in peace.

MW