2005-03-08 - 5:14 p.m.


Being dorks, Freddie and I often engage in tickle wars and rambunctous floor wrestling.

On Sunday, Freddie pulled a new WWF move on me -- he threw his entire weight onto my right side. You know those old Garfield cartoons in which Garfield spots a pan of lasagna and goes "Bonsai!" and pounces on it? It was a bit like that.

"Ooof! Get OFF me dude, I can't breathe!"

Monday morning, I woke up and - oh mah gah - my ribs! I could not move without wincing with pain. My right side hurt so much. I couldn't BREATHE it hurt so much.

Freddie called me at work.

"Dude - sup?"

"Dude? You smooshed my major organs yesterday. My ribs are killing me...I can't brea..OW!"

"Aw. You're fine. You probably just have a little bruise. You'll get better, it'll be okay."

Cut to last night.

We were watching Supernanny.

I? was close to TEARS. I was in that much pain.

Freddie changes his tune.

"Gee. Maybe I should take you to ER. You should probably get an x-ray just in case."

Gah!

That kind of freaked me out. I haven't ever gone to the hospital as a patient.

"No, no, no. Don't make me go to the hospital!"

Freddie paused for a moment and then decisively declared "Okay. well, let's just try this then."

He made me take three big aspirin-y thingies. Then he rubbed tiger balm all over my side and made a hot compress by microwaving a wet towel. Then he put the towel over the tiger balm and told me to lay there for 30 minutes.

Man, it STUNG.

But damned if I didn't wake up this morning...completely healed.

I'll never complain about laundering a bajillion scrubs ever again. It's a small price to pay for having your own on-call medical personnel.

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Supergirl Central:

Erin G's lofty pursuits include sampling candy, taking naps, memorizing showtunes and shopping at Daffy's. She's a joyously dorky theatre girl. Also? a big fan of cats, well-written books, and her good lookin' an' schweet lovin' husband, Freddie.


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