We are concussed and have significant muscle spasms. Thank heavens. I’m not more ditsy, just dizzy. Well, ok. The jury’s still out on the ditsy part.

The attending physician says the concussion appears mild even though it feesl monstrously more significant. It’s in the front of my face and is affecting, among other things, my “left ocular orbit.” I asked if that was anything like authentic Welsh rarebit.

Doctors don’t have the same sense of humor that they had just a few years ago. Too much malpractice, perhaps? Or is rarebit so arcane a dish that no one under the age of forty remembers it?  Or am I just not that fucking funny unless the physician is on painkillers of their own?

Not sure whether I should be perplexed or irritated that the doctor asked, “Can you tell if your nose is swollen?” Half of me thought that was her job to figure out (those hundreds of thousands of dollars in government-backed student loans…I’m just saying…) or whether she was making reference to my nose being rather flat-bridged and Asian. “I can’t see it or feel it at this point,” I replied, “what do you think?” From where she sat it looked “okay.”

Did it sound like a critique from Jay Manuel because I was wanted it to, or was it a sincere medical assessment from a professional with no particular intimacy with my funny-looking face? I might’ve had the answer had she not stood from her chair, put her hands on my nose, and poked and prodded it asking, “is this where it hurts? Here? HERE?!?”

Sigh.

She wins for being the doctor. I win for not having pushed her into the wall.

I reverse my former position. Dammit, Higby! This is YOUR fault!