welcome to mcdonald’s, would you like to try our mcrib today?

Hey, check out this dude who ate McDonald’s for 30 days straight and still set a personal record running a marathon . . . this totally validates my addiction to McSkillet Burritos and Oreo McFlurries. Though, it shouldn’t.


In other unrelated news, I took a jaunt to Urgent Care this morning to obtain a chest x-ray and, hopefully, an RX to some pain meds. I had a bad spill snowboarding last weekend (I wish it was doing something glamorous, but I was getting off the chairlift and became distracted, before I knew it I was twisting and flailing around, and slammed down on my left side). I had all sorts of spills and thrills that day as I conquered some black diamond runs . . . and I was left with the black bruises on my back-side to prove it.

No pain, no gain!

That was a week ago, but my left rib cage has become increasingly painful, instead of easing and feeling better, it was just getting worse. To the point I woke up this morning, prepared to remove my own rib. Breathing was laborious and just reaching for the phone was making me feel out of breath. Little Toby stepped on me in the night with his stiletto feet and I swiped him off the bed in a knee jerk reaction. Tears were brought to my eyes.

True story.

When I drove to work this morning and could only comfortably use my right arm, coworkers noticed my strained, pained expression . . . I decided I should go consult a professional. I knew there was nothing they could really do for me, being my ribs and all, I just wanted some validation, and some pills, to make me feel like I wasn’t being a complete baby. And so I could start breathing again without feeling like I was being stabbed to death.

So, I rolled into Urgent Care, got me a chest x-ray and confirmed there wasn’t anything splintering into my internal organs, my spleen and lungs in tact . . . and I was sent away with a diagnosis of a chest wall contusion and scripts to 800 MG motrin and Vicodin.

Now I feel much better that I can get this pain under control and looking forward to hitting the slopes again on Friday . . . to beat and batter myself up all over again.


  1. I have to read your blog to learn of the happenings?! You could have been over to Urgent Care a lot sooner, like this past Sunday?
    Love, mom

  2. Mom, I was ok, you saw you me on Sunday!

  3. I’m glad it wasn’t worse! At least they gave you the good stuff. You’re so funny heading back to it again after that spill.

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