Not only should you wear clean underwear, but also not underwear that is worn out

Yesterday was a long day.

First, I drove the hour and a half out to Brewster for a district clergy workshop on clergy sexual malpractice. An informative if not completely fun time. Then, seeing how it ended in time to shoot to Watertown and pick Jan up, giving us some rare time together, even if it was just for a long ride back to Rhode Island, I did it.

Apparently I wasn’t thinking as deeply as I should. I had two cups of coffee in the morning, together with some yogurt. I later shared half my lunch sandwich with a colleague who arrived too late to place an order for her own sandwich and drank a bottle of water.

On the way back we stopped at a Whole Foods to get the makings for a Faux Pho soup for dinner.

As we stepped out of the car I felt an itch on my left shoulder blade. I reached around and, I don’t know, pulled a muscle, something like that. The pain was excruciating. And it was followed by a wave of nausea. Several waves.

I leaned into the car.

And the next thing I knew was a bunch of people were staring down at me, one professional looking woman speaking on her phone. Apparently I had fainted dead away. Jan tried to break my fall and did it nicely, although she ended up bruised. Me, not a scratch. Although it would be a while before that was known. There were various conversations going on, I found I wasn’t massively interested in the details, although I was forced to repeat what happened several times to different folk.

I turned my head in time to see the Fire truck.

I learned what that neck brace is like. I don’t recommend it unless you really, really need it.

And soon I was off to Newton Wellesley hospital.

One major thought that kept poking through the nausea was how that morning I’d selected the pair of underpants on the top of the pile, a pair that had many holes in it and how I had had a passing thought it was past time to throw them away. Next time, I thought. Not soiled, but should I be undressed, somehow, vaguely, somewhere floating out there, embarrassing.

Truth be told, mainly I was deeply uncomfortable and nauseated.

Turns out there’s a drug for that.

Much waiting, and more telling of the story.

An EKG and a trip down the hall for a Cat Scan.

And for me a nap and for Jan knitting and waiting…

The results, well, the doc said a unique episode. My heart was fine. And so was my head – something my friends should note the next time they suggest I should have my head examined – it has been…

Consensus I sat too long and didn’t have enough fluids in me.

Jan, however, pointed out that in addition to those truths, I am not only overweight (I heard the EMTs grunt tossing me around) but also out of shape.

I got a little fear of the Lord moment.

Sickness, old age & death are inevitable. The first one we have some modicum of input about…

And so…

After I write this its fifteen minutes on the stationary bike…

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  • Leann

    I just had to say I loved this! I have the same thought quite often. I became a type 1 diabetic at age 26. Once everything settled down, I realized I was going to have to throw out most of my under garments. The chances of having to call paramedics just shot up – “only sick” now meant I better pay attention in more ways than the obvious! Thanks for the chuckle today and I’m very glad you’re ok! Take care of yourself and feel better soon!

  • Nancy Green

    I’m glad you’re okay. We’ve been through a few ministers in the last ten years and we want to keep you.

  • Weasel Tracks

    I just came back down to the tropics (Cambridge) after spending a couple of weeks in Vermont, extending a second roof over the trailer home I have up at my place. My hands are all scratched and full of splinters, and I did lots of physical labor for myself and helping a neighbor with her firewood. I realized how mch better of a shape I can be. Some weakness accrues due to aging, but you can slow it down. Use it or lose it. It’s much easier to maintain health without urban amenities — you city folk have to make more of an effort to exercise consciously, without chores of firewood and water-fetching.

    A few years ago, my partner bought me a year’s membership to a workout room. Wonderful for moving meditation and body awareness, except that they played lively rock’n’roll constantly. On one of my great circles of this country, I parked my schoolbus just north of Chicago near a university. I walked my dogs early, before dawn, but there were usually runners up and about already. I observed them carefully. Many apparently believed that one should listen to something while running. Many, perhaps nine-tenths of the runners, seemed to be doing it because “it’s good for you.” It showed. But one in ten, ran with grace, loose in limb and light of heart. Usually without earphones. Not making one’s body run, but being a body running.

    I’m glad the event seems inconsequential.

  • Willy

    Please take care of yourself. There still a lot you have to teach me.

    • Willy

      Like contractions -> There’s still a lot you have to teach me.

  • http://JustThis( Alan

    I am grateful for your living…please put off your dying for a while…I enjoy your blog…

  • Sibyl

    I have been (silently) following your blog for awhile. Gotta admit that I read the heading and thought, “oh, oh.” I guess we’re lucky if there are opportunities to review the state of our underwear and our lives while in or traveling to an emergency room. Glad you’re okay. (Just as an aside, when I was finally driven to lose weight, I started with Richard Simmons, early in the morning, so no one would see or hear either me or him and it worked, more or less)