My ribs and I went to Paradise today to visit the doctor. I explained my history to the MD. I explained how my friend had hugged me, squeezed me and lifted me off the ground. I explained all the snapping sounds when this happened.
The doctor, who introduced himself as "Brian", smiled and quipped that my football career "is probably over". So we had the x-rays done only to show what I had expected: A fractured 7th rib. He wrote a note for me to be on "light duty" at work and also provided a script for my favorite opiates and muscle relaxers. If you are gonna have a broken rib, it is best done while in a medicated fog.
Since my job doesn't recognize a "light duty" status, I could be off work for six weeks.
Afterwards, I wandered the shelves of my favorite used bookstore. Splurged on buying a two dollar copy of "The Snow Leopard" by Peter Matthiessen.
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