Posted by whatimeant2say
So, I’m pretty sure that my bulldog, Wonderbutt, has given me a blood clot. And I just thought I would mention this to you before I die of a pulmonary embolism. And before Cap’n Firepants takes my internet away because he is convinced that it contributes to my hypochondria.
My leg has been achy for a couple of days, the kind of achy that you get when you’ve run a marathon. But. I. Have. Not. Run.
A Marathon. A Mile. Around the Room.
So, in the interest of saving myself a trip to the doctor, I Googled my symptoms, and I have come to the conclusion that I have a blood clot.
It is possible that sitting on my butt in front of the computer could be the cause of this medical problem, but I choose to blame another butt – Wonderbutt. I don’t think it is a coincidence that Fat Boy has been cuddling with me on the armchair every night, cutting off my blood circulation while he gets good and comfortable. I thought it was kind of sweet the way he insisted that I contort myself into the exact right position every night before he would leap on the chair and fall in a heap on my legs, sigh deeply, and commence snoring. But now I know that he is just trying to kill me. It’s one of those little-used murder methods known only to true homicide connoisseurs like Agatha Christie – murder by a blood clotting bulldog.
And no, this paranoia is not the result of three nights of Very Little Sleep or my admiration of Rapper Heavy D, who, sadly, did die from this exact problem. And, yes, I did discover that fact on the internet.
The good news is, as long as my leg feels funny, the clot has not traveled to my lungs, (at least, that’s my expert opinion), so I still have time to type out a couple more blog posts before my demise.
Oh wait, according to outtobrunch on geteverystupidquestionansweredhere.com, it could just be a pinched nerve. Or I’ve been sitting with my wallet in my pocket too long. The latter is unlikely, I think, since I don’t own a wallet.
O.K. Just talk amongst yourselves while I get this figured out.