Thinking Thin Mantra #8...Part Deux

Do you need it? Or do you want it? There’s a big difference.

I wasn't sure what I was going to write as Part 2 of this blog, until this past weekend. Then it all came crashing down and I got smacked in the face by reality harder than a $2 ho gets smacked by her pimp on a $5 night. I had my first (and hopefully only) ambulance ride. And FYI, the EMT's were NOT hot, they didn't rip my shirt open like on ER to get good "breath sounds" and when we pulled up to the ER door, there were no interns with rock hard abs and lustful misery in their eyes waiting for me. Total rip off.

Saturday morning started out great. I woke up so happy because I had family coming out to spend the weekend. We were going to have a picnic at Letchworth State Park and hike and take pictures. It was all going to be very Swiss Family Robinson and shit. I remember at one point, I got up to go to the kitchen and I had a slight pain in my belly. I ignored, as I often do, and just figured I moved wrong or ate too fast. When the family arrived and we headed to the park, I noticed it was getting a little worse. I still ignored it because apparently I am a RETARD. Once we ate lunch, I was in quite a bit of pain. And, knowing that I should listen to my body and perhaps rest, what did I do next? Logically, I went hiking of course! Not the smartest idea I had all day. By the time we were finished with our expedition, we were sweaty and sticky, took lots of tacky tourist-y pictures, were sick of listening to kids scream and I was in utter, and complete agony.

We got home and I changed into comfy clothes because I was sure this would solve everything. Within a half hours time I was writhing in pain on the couch screaming as if a 10 pound turd were going to shoot out of my ass at any minute. The pain was like someone had taken my guts in both hands and was twisting it in opposite directions. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move and all I wanted at that moment was death, sweet peaceful death. Let me say this, I have NEVER in my life even CONSIDERED calling an ambulance and I have gone through some painful shit in my life. But when my husband asked if he should call the ambulance that day it was everything I could do not to scream through clenched and shivering teeth, "YES, PLEASE FUCK JESUS CHRIST CALL THE GODDAMNED AMBULANCE!!!!". I don't even remember half of this ordeal, it hurt that bad. I do remember the two volunteer EMT's who smelled like they just came from a cow tipping contest or a rodeo of sorts putting me on the stretcher and then DROPPING ME three feet to the ground. This was NOT going well.

The hospital I was forced to go to has been mocked, sensationalized and told to be one of the WORST hospitals ever, and it surely lived up to its reputation. They left me in a room, with some half assed pain killer, for almost three hours before taking me up for a CT Scan. No one came in to check on me, take vitals, see if I needed a blanket, or even make sure I was still alive. If surgery were needed, I would have been better off letting my husband perform it with a rusty coat hanger and some Tylenol. Finally, they came in after the scan (and after my husband almost ripped the nurses bell OFF of the wall and tore them a new asshole) and gave me drugs that knocked me out. For about 20 minutes. Then just as the pain kicked back in, the persnickety and almost unintelligable on call doctor came in and said the CT scan was fine, here are some Darvocet for the pain, and have a nice life you dumb bitch. Well, without the "dumb bitch" part but it was implied.

I got home and slept. And slept. And then slept some more. Over the next couple days of resting the pain was subsiding. To this day, we still aren't sure exactly what happened. My regular doctor that I saw Monday morning says more than likely I overdid it and pulled a muscle at the abdominal incision site. It happens apparently when you are a maniac who never slows down. Or listens to your body. Or tries to run and exercise like you are 100 pounds lighter and 20 years younger.

The moral of the story is this. You can't always get what you want. For me, I WANT to be a runner in the worst way. I WANT to finish losing this weight ASAP and be thin and fit. But what I NEED is to realize it isn't going to happen overnight, and that by pushing my body beyond its physical limits, I am only going to deter my progress and possibly cause damage that I won't be able to reverse. I WANT to finish this 5k next month stronger than I have ever been, but I NEED to remember that the fact that I am doing it at all is something greater than I ever thought I would even be capable of doing.

Sometimes getting what you WANT without listening to what your body NEEDS only lands you flat on your ass, doped up on pain killers, missing out on life.