Two things that you can always count on me for are being able to laugh things off and also being a Google self diagnosing hypochondriac. Two things that not normally tied together. Over the years, I've diagnosed myself with skin cancer, infertility, pregnancy when it was a flu, allergies etc etc. Non were accurate of course but I still do it. It's a problem, but ultimately when I go to the Doctor, share my diagnosis and they look at me like I was dropped on my head and I question their qualifications, as if Google is a better qualifier than medical school, finally except that their diagnosis and remedy worked, I'm able to go back and laugh at myself about it. This post sort of wraps these traits all in one painfully funny package.
Val and I have always had a laughter filled relationship. Especially when taking road trips we tend to find fun no matter where we're headed and part of this is always him quizzing me on the little towns that we drive by and sharing random "facts" with me which I'm never quite sure are true or not. Luckily I'm able to Google most things now and validate his random stories before I fall for them sending both of us into insane fits of laughter. This trip was no different. We decided that for our "babymoon" we'd take a camping trip to Killarney which is a good five hour drive away.
Once on the road Val once again started quizzing me this time on Sudbury. "What is Sudbury known for" he asks. I honestly had no clue which naturally amuses my dear husband and he decides to make a game out of this by giving me a clue. His clue, "they have a statue of a beaver". So I start rhyming off anything that I think would justify having a giant beaver statue in the middle of town. Beaver damns, Beaver lodges, beaver tails, strip clubs (yea I went there), logging, beaver farm (I don't think there's such a think but hey why not). With each guess, Val's laughter grew more hysterical sending me into a laughing frenzy complete with tears streaming down my face and shortness of breath. The guessing game continues where Val says, "what's on the back of a nickle I said", a beaver he says okay so you want to take another guess? So I continue in between fits of laughter, "Nickle factory?" Which sends us both into hysterics he says " Nickle factory? Seriously?" and the laughter progressed until suddenly I felt a pop in my rib cage and that was the end of my laughing. Four hours into our drive I now had an insane amount of pain in my ribs and it hurt to breath. Once I was able to position myself into a comfortably in my seat, I started Googling to see what the heck had happened and I finally self diagnosed myself with having a dislocated bottom rib. Reading further I found that there's pretty much no other solution other than having someone pop it back into place, which I was not about to do, and getting rest. Suddenly it dawns on us that camping is no fun when you can't move at all. Val also decides that I'm not a pregnant gimp which sends me into another laughing fit which at this point is horribly painful but I just can't stop. Visions of myself wobbling around all gimpy are just irresistibly funny to me. For the first time, I would have preferred being in a grumpy hateful relationship where laughter was not a common occurrence to save me the physical pain (Not a true wish but made perfect sense at the time). After a long debate of should we hit the hospital or continue on our path I stubbornly decided we shall continue. Did I also mention I'm as stubborn and a mule? I also decided this would be good practice for an epidural free birth (see mule comment above). Long story short, the insane amount of pain cut our trip short and we came back and I managed to see a Chiropractor only to find out that what I was experiencing was actually a muscle spasm of some sort. Go figure my Google self diagnosis fails me again. I really have to stop doing that I tell ya. After 2 visits, a lot of stretching and icing I'm finally able to move again which is awesome but I tell you, with 10 weeks to go I'm wondering what other random rib popping surprises will peek their funny heads out of the woods.
What I learned from this incident:
1) Camping at 7.5 months pregnant is probably not the best idea I've had
2) Listen to Val when he questions my wanting to camp this far into pregnancy
3) I'm not super woman
4) Google is not qualified as a diagnostic tool
5) I'm not a Doctor
5) It's all fun and laughter until someone pops a rib
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