Doctors a' Plenty

Diagnosis for Back
My doctor called Friday afternoon about my back. He got the results of my MRI, and decided to give me a call.

"Ryan?"

"Yo."

"Wassup. It's Dr. Morgenson."

"Whatchu doin'?"

"Chillin'. You?"

"I'm linin' the pockets of the Man."

"Fo' real, fo' real..."

Then he said he got the results of my MRI. Evidentally, it's a herniated disc between the L4 and L5, and it's pretty bad. But he said as long as I don't feel numbness around my buttocks or groin area, and I haven't lost control of my bowels and bladder, I should be jim-dandy. If I do, then I must somehow get over to the emergency room. So as long as I don't shit my pants or unknowingly wet myself, I'm good. Great. This sounds reassuring.

No more kickboxing for the foreseeable future. No lifting of heavy objects. Other stuff he said not to do and I forget what they are, but I'll probably remember when I can't feel my dick.

Diagnosis for Cough
I went to my aunt and uncle's yesterday in Agoura Hills. I was talking to my aunt and uncle on the couch when I coughed. My uncle gave a strange, knowing look to my aunt. "How long have you had this cough?"

"Oh...Since June 12th. Two or three days before I threw my back out."

Out comes his stethoscope and then he said, "It's walking pneumonia. Possibly bronchitis."

Then he gave me drugs. I asked what their street value was, but he didn't tell me. So if you know somebody who wants Biaxin XL 500 mg tablets (this is the good shit, too--it'll FUCK you up), let me know.