Wed 30 Jul 2008
So, three years ago I had a kidney stone and instantly felt old. Today it came back. The doctor for serious believes it’s the same stone and that it’s been biding its time all along, the little shit. The good news is that I haven’t had to writhe around on the floor groaning in a few hours and I have a prescription for fun pain killers. All in all, things could be a lot worse, y’know? No big whoop.
No, the point of this is not to garner pity for myself but instead to reflect on how deeply ingrained the tech support job is in anyone who’s worked tech support - and ultimately, that’s what I do, just a very fancy variety of tech support.
The doctor was talking to me about my previous bout with a/the kidney stone and turned to the computer in the examining room to look up my history. The computer was on but the monitor would not come on and he was doing the unnerd thing of banging on it, basically. There I was on the examining table, panting from the spasms (kidney stones feel like someone has driven a knife into one’s back and every few seconds gives the blade a leisurely jiggle) and yet I couldn’t resist the siren song of a computer in need.
As I told Mr. Pink Eyes, it basically turned into me rocking back and forth, bent double, saying, “The monitor doesn’t GASP have any power GASP that kind has a GASP funny way for the plug to go in GASP around back on the other side GASP that makes it easy GASP for the cord to fall out GASP I work in tech support I know what I’m doing GASP OH DENIM-CLAD ZEUS THE PAIN!”
I was right, though, and then the doctor said, “I’m going to give you what I’ve taken the seven times I’ve had a kidney stone,” so it was completely worth it.
Ouch! Sorry to hear about the stone. But I can totally see you doing tech support in that situation.
The thought that he might not have given you what he took, if you had not repaired the monitor, is a little frightening though.
He’s one of those Science Villain doctors that has to be given something in barter or at least lavished with compliments before he doles out medicine. This is what I get for going with the HMO plan.
Actually I’m pretty sure he gives everybody oxycodone. Don’t tell anyone but my experience has been that the Duke Health System hands those things out like Tic-Tacs.
It’s not so much that I’m laughing at your suffering, as that I’m laughing at your colorful expressions of suffering. Denim-clad Zeus!
Today Mr. Pink Eyes commented that it sounded like an angry bear who demands denim and to be called “Zeus,” and I imagined a grizzly being all RAR, BRING ME (very) LOOSE-FIT LEVIS AND A SALMON and he said, “Different kind of bear,” and that amused me a great deal.