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Dangit, Now Even Kevin Bacon Is Hazardous To My Health?

6 Min Read

How do you know if your condition requires immediate medical attention?

When the only way to describe it is with a Kevin Bacon reference…


“Are you experiencing moderate to severe chest discomfort?”

“Yes!”

“Are you experiencing numbness in any of your extremities?”

“Yes! The lower side of my left arm has been asleep for almost 7 hours now–that can’t be normal…”

“Are your experiencing any cramping in your legs when you squeeze them?”

“Yes! As matter of fact I have started having cramps in my fat ol’ calves!”

*brief pause*

“And my toes have started tingling intermittently…give it to me straight, Doc, am I going to lose my precious little piggies to a case of ol’ COVID-toe?”

*a couple of minutes of awkward silence*

“Oh, man, am I really talking to this WebMD page like it was a real doctor?!? I really need to get some sleep!”

I looked around my luxurious hotel room–the one I had gone through hell and high water to secure–and sure enough, I was all alone.

As you may recall from last time, my COVID-cation/quarantine had got, um, ‘complicated’ when, at 1 in the morning, I started experiencing what WebMD had just bias-confirmed to be symptoms of either a massive blood clot and/or a bajillion micro-clots. You know–something that could come dislodged at any moment and cause a massive brain hemorrhage and/or heart attack.

All I had to do was make it morning, when I could I go see my medical professional first thing, and either they would immediately rush me to be admitted to the hospital (where I might pick up COVID), or they would assure me that whatever the heck was going on with me was nothing serious, and I could finally–finally!–get some gosh-darned rest…


“One-forty p.m.?!? I’m possibly dying here, Doc, and that’s the soonest you can get me in? That’s over 5 hours away–if I die in the meantime, my blood will be on your hands!”

The front desk receptionist at my doctor’s office didn’t say anything. That’s because most of my mini-rant had raged on only in my mind, with the only thing being uttered aloud was ‘one-forty p.m.?!?’

“Oh, and since you have tested positive for COVID, it’ll need to be tele-visit…”

“Awww…dangit, okay. I guess I’ll see you then.”

Even though it was over the phone, I could see the condescension on the receptionist’s face as she replied with a coldly-professional:

As you may have inferred by now, I did at least make ’til sunrise without nary a serious health incident. But I was severely disappointed when I called my doc as soon as the office opened, only to find that I had a solid 5-hour window in which, knowing my luck, I would be taken out by my all-but-confirmed blood clot(s).

Adding insult to injury, though, was them forcing me to stay far far away from their office on account of my COVIDity. You see, the worst part about the ordeal I had just endured all through the previous night was being alone.

Apart from not wanting to die a lonely death, there was the practical matter of just having someone to look out for you in case you became incapacitated for any reason. And I really would have felt much better just being in a health care setting, where if I did happen to randomly pass out, there would be professionals who would be able to give me immediate treatment.

But instead, I found myself with 5 hours to kill before those 5 hours killed me. Fortunately for me, one of the amenities that this DoubleTree hotel had that almost no other hotel (within my price range) had was a beautiful pond with a walking trail around it, as can be seen in this picture I actually took so I could later brag about what an exquisite view I had:

So if I was gonna die, why not do it in a beautiful, semi-public location? There’s just something immeasurably sweet about ruining the day of anyone else who might be out there trying to enjoy the fresh air, amiright? Nothing like a little trauma from seeing a healthy, sexy, be-ponytailed young buck like myself drop dead right before your eyes during your morning walk.

Of course I kid–I hoped I wouldn’t traumatize anyone, but I really did want to be somewhere where people would see me if I collapsed to the ground and started foaming blood at the mouth (the hope/assumption here is that any on-lookers would know how to call 911 and do so accordingly).

It was kinda hot, though, and I could only stand not more than a 15 minute walk in one go, so I passed my first two hours or so with a few walks interspersed with 30 minute chill-and-do-nothing sessions in my hotel room.

In my spare moments in between, I occupied myself by doing more unreliable internet research about how to self-mitigate blood clots. For example, I knew that a common pain killer–Tylenol or Advil or aspirin–had some sort of anti-clotting effect, but I had better use the interwebs to make sure I buy the right one from the mini-store in the hotel lobby.

Of course, not sitting or laying down too long was another recommendation, so I felt proud that I was preemptively on top of that one with my little walks around the pond.

And then there was recommendation to not wear anything tight or constrictive, especially below the waist.

Funny thing was, I almost skimmed over that tidbit of wisdom before realizing–“Wait just a tick–I’ve been wearing tight workout shorts as underwear this entire time!”

So off came my underpants! And my wedding band while I was at it–after all, that could have been part of the reason my left arm had got a full night’s rest when I hadn’t.

There was just one little problem with the shedding of my undergarments, though: since I had only planned on being away from home 2 nights, I had something of a laundry situation on my hands–i.e., the one pair of non-constricting boxer shorts that I had packed were no longer clean enough to wear.

You know, though, what did it really matter if I went commando in the comfort of my hotel room? And as long as I remained upright during my subsequent walks, I should have no problem keeping things P.G., right? Just put it out of your sweet little pretty head my dear…


“It’s high noon, and barely over an hour to go before my appointment–I got this! I got this…I got thi……ZZZZZZ…”

I jerked my head back up, saving myself from nearly falling asleep face-first into my gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwich. If I was going to snooze, I would prefer to do it in the comfort of my bed instead of using a pile of nut-paste as a pillow.

By the time I had finished chowing down on my sammie, I figured I had just enough time to squeeze in an hour or so nap before my appointment. And believe you me, my ass was dragging at that point and I desperately needed it.

No sooner than I had set my alarm for 1:15 pm and settled into the covers, did the cramps kick back in. Dangit!

I attempted to fall asleep for about 5 minutes, but at this point the whole I’m-going-to-die-in-my-sleep anxiety kicked in full throttle.

“Screw it! I’m going for another walk!” I resolutely muttered to myself before hopping out of bed and heading out the door.

But just as I was passing through the hotel lobby, my left calf started to lightly tingle and twitch. Disconcerting as that was, my first thought was, “hey, I forgot to by some Advil, so might as well do that while I’m down here and pop them pills sooner than later!”

After procuring them, I headed back up to my room so I could down them with some bottled water. In those brief moments, though, that was when things…changed.

The only way to describe this experience is–did you ever see the 1990 Kevin Bacon classic1https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100814/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1 Tremors?–yeah, it was like something was tunneling just underneath the surface of my skin in my lower legs. “Worms crawling under my skin” is a phrase that comes to mind, though it’s just short of being that freaky.

However, given that I have never experienced anything like this ever in my life, I sure was freaked the ----- out. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t wait around another hour to see if this crazy sh*t was going to kill me or not. I had to get to a medical professional, and I had to do it now.

A quick Google Maps search revealed that I was a mere 6 minutes from an urgent care–and even then I feared that might be too long. No time to second guess! This sh*t is really happening–out the door we go!

And just like that, in a span of about 30 seconds I went from “doo-tee-doo-tee-doo, just gonna go for a walk around the lake” to grabbing the bare essentials–keys, wallet, phone, hoodie, two masks–and darn-near sprinting to my car.

I peeled out of the parking lot, and as I pulled onto the road, my legs started lightly spasming, feeling as if those worms really wanted to make their way out.

“C’mon! Seriously, I’m going to die in a clot/tremor-induced wreck 2 minutes from getting professional medical help?!? You gotta be kidding me–no–you gotta be f*cking kidding me…”2Obviously, I’m leaving you hanging on a cliff, and you will definitely need to tune in next week, as we finally enter the final–and most interesting–chapter of this whole ----- saga!


Content created on: 21 October 2022 (Friday)

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2 Comments

  1. DG

    Let me guess, you were going commando accidentally when you went to urgent care. You were only thinking of the “bare” essentials during those “brief” moments

    • BJ

      In general, it’s best to try not to draw attention when one has a situation like this down pun-der…

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