I’ll Tell You What…This past friday night, after the Top Ten Countdown, I managed to meet up with some friends at Wynkoop.  Now, already being 10:30-ish, I knew I was coming late to the party and everyone was a few cocktails ahead of me.  Fine, no worries.  I walked in, found my friends and proceeded to order a beer.  Life is good.   Up walks my buddy Paul.  Feeling no pain, he proceeds to give me a giant bear hug.  He grabs me in an awkward position, attempting to squeeze the life out of me, in a “good to see you” kind of way.  I feel something pop.  Maybe a rib, I don’t know.  I turn to my girlfriend, Mandy (she looks a lot like Mandy Moore, but way hotter), and tell her I didn’t feel right and needed to sit down.  I started getting nauseous, sweaty and clammy.  Something was wrong.  Mandy walks me outside to get some fresh air.  After a good 15 minute breather, I make it back into the bar to finish my beer.  The right side of my rib cage was killing me.  I needed to get outta there without further incident. The walk home was rough.  Sleeping that night was rough.  Doing anything since has been rough.  It’s not a steady pain, just an annoyance when attempting to sit down, sneeze, drive or even taking a shower. 

 Worst-case scenario, I have a fractured rib.  After a quick WebMD search, there is nothing that can be done except popping a few aspirin and taking it easy for awhile.  Mandy would prefer to take me to urgent care, but I can tough this one out.  I’m pretty sure it’s just a bruised rib anyway.  I should be back to normal in a few weeks.  In the meantime, running and hitting the gym is out of the question.  And, in all honesty, I might be milking it a bit.  Nothin’ wrong with a little extra attention and care from Mandy.  Just don’t tell her!

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