Got my test results back today: nothing, nothing t’all. Oh well. My doctor actually asked me if I was still experiencing the pain, like I was being overcautious with my non-existent health coverage and the testing was a formality. Fuck, the days between scheduling that shit and hearing the results were the closest I’ve gotten to worrying about this. My bones and organs are fine, apparently, so I should just schedule another appointment with the doctor in a few weeks to check up on it. Oh, and take an advil or something for the pain, if necessary. (Bitch!)
Apparently I could have damaged a nerve or maybe a muscle in that area. My chest is shaped an odd way, and if it hurts after standing for a period, it would make sense that my weight is being placed at an unfortunate angle where the pain exists. So yeah, maybe. Sounds like an expensive thing to find out, though.
The good doctor also complimented my general health (blood pressure, etc.) in terms of what I eat. She said, “Whatever your diet is, keep doing it.” What? I’ve eaten breakfast once in the last two weeks, and that was when I didn’t sleep the night before. Lunch? Hopefully a sandwich, but usually more like a handful of chips and a soda. I try to fix my intake at dinner, but in two weeks, the only dinners have been grilled by my brother, cooked by me (so Hamburger Helper, basically), or fucking fast food. And even then, I have a bird’s stomach, and I rarely eat ALL of what I make for myself.
Weed is the only thing that makes me eat ENOUGH, let alone make up for the other meals. And then, when’s the last time I’ve smoked during mealtimes? Maybe twice since I left college, the rest is either at someone’s broke ass apartment or at someone’s parents’ house, REAL late at night. So, collectively, my diet is shit, and it’s starting to make me feel like my doctor is shit, too.