|Banks County Opinions...||
AUGUST 6, 2003
By: Shar Porier
It has been so strange this past week, not being under a deadline, not worrying about getting pages done, not harassing Mark for pages. I forgot what it was like before BCN, but I missed the pace and missed everyone.
It sure was a good thing I arranged for those days off, though they didnt go as Id planned, nor were they been particularly enjoyable.
I was supposed to be in Forsyth at the fire academy in the Mod 1 firefighter course. For months, Id planned to take the course, like 100 others in the state. Finally, the Gods looked down and smiled, or so I thought, and I was going to training. I was so excited. I had my week off from work and I was ready.
But, then the Gods looked down and laughed and I was caught in the whirlwind of cosmic humor. Five days before I was to leave, I stood up from my desk and had an unexpected visit from the red-hot pokers. My back! No, not my back!
Now, these little tricksters tend to pop up when least expected. Its always when Im doing something simple an everyday task, a simple movement, like standing up.
The pain was intense and I knew a visit to my Doc was essential if I wanted to go to that class. A couple of shots of Novocain and cortisone, good as new.
So, into Atlanta I went, got my shots and the pain was gone. I no longer would have to eye Moms old walker in my car and think, Darn. Am I going to need that?
With my gas gauge hovering on E, I stopped to fill up and ran into a dear old friend I havent seen in two years.
It was dinnertime, so she took me to this Middle Eastern restaurant. Shes been there before; said it was good food. The chef, whos name had more syllables than my mind could absorb, came out to greet her. He sat us down and said he was going to fix us something special. I heard saffron and curry but that was all I could understand.
He brought out two beautiful dishes piled with rice and lentils and specialties I had never seen. After the first few bites, my stomach notified me that it wasnt happy with what was being sent down the chute. It did taste a bit weird, off, but I thought it was just the spices. She was eating hers with no evident problem. The chef was standing there waiting for approval. I looked at him and smiled as best I could. Good, its very good.
After a few more bites, my stomach was in rebellion. Best not to take another bite. I drank some tea and things calmed down. For a while until I got home.
My head was spinning and my stomach was doing a strange dance. I drank some chamomile tea with honey and laid down. By 11 p.m., when I was supposed to be watching my favorite news show (The Daily Show, with Jon Stewart on Comedy Central), I was hugging a certain porcelain appliance in the bathroom. (Thank goodness, I had just cleaned the thing.)
I began thinking very unkind thoughts about my friend, and that chef in particular. And though it felt like my stomach was going to throw that spicy cuisine back at me, it wouldnt. No, it planned to make me suffer.
Ok, Shar. Here it comes! Ha-ha! Got ya! Not yet. Let me show ya how bad I can make you feel for not listening to me. Ah, ha,ha,ha,ha! What till you feel this one!
I had to pay for my sin and pay I did. After repenting and pledging several times that I would submit total control to this organ that was hell-bent on making an indelible impression of its power over me, at 3 a.m. mercy was granted. But relief that would not come for another three hours.
To while away the time, I pondered over the invention I was embracing. Did the inventor think about this other use for it? Or did that use actually come first? After all, who wants to be sick in an outhouse? And a bucket, well, then you got the smell to deal with and disposal. Gross!
As the sun rose, so did I, though a bit wobbly and stiff. I was miserable and still nauseous. It was awful. Every now and then, the urge would hit and Id head back into the bathroom.
Around 11 am, I began to feel better. My punishment was complete. I slept through the day, woke up, felt fine, sipped a little broth and had some tea.
Saturday morning, I felt great, went to my two assignments. No problems with my new dictator or my back. All right! I was going to make it down to school in spite of it all.
Thinking all was well in Shar-land, I took a much-needed trip to the grocery store for critter food Sunday. Without thinking, I grabbed a 40-pound bag of dog food and the two hot pokers checked back in. I was so disappointed. I couldnt hide it when I called to cancel.
So, Ive been forced to take easy over the past week whirling in the Jacuzzi, using the hot pad, ice packs, and Tiger Balm. It has been rather enjoyable, much to my surprise, just lying around in bed watching old movies on TV. My back still bothers me, but the pokers are gone. I think itll be all right. At least I can walk upright like a normal human now.
However, I am considering painting Moms walker, just in case. Maybe a bright, race car red?
Shar is a reporter for The Banks County News.
By: Adam Fouche
No wonder we dont like the doctor
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