I still remember it.
That NASTY ingrown toenail which was so painful was that when a shoe – or a even a light touch from one of the girls at the “baddddddddd” massage places I so often frequented in “the good ole days” (I’ve been known to visit them bordellos occasionally even now sans the naughty part, ever since Xi did the “Great Yellow Crackdown”, hehe, or yours truly got hitched – whichever you believe – or came first. 😉 My wife believes the … well, neither one of them. You … well, you be the judge!) so much as TOUCHED it, I’d BAWL with and in pain.
It was that bad.
Yours truly “unruly and anti-doctor” for the most part had put off treating it until he really HAD to.
So, there came the trip to Hong Kong. Those were the days where I wasn’t confident doctors on the mainland could do the trick. (they probably could, but…the language barrier and all that!).
A three hour trip either way.
Buses. Taxis. Or Trains. And LOTS Of walking, and climbing stairs without escalators or elevators.
The bad ole days!
And of course, the visit to the hospital in Hong Kong the first time, via subway with the toe, a jampacked subway.
Ouch x 10. Hehe.
Anyway, when it was all said and done and they had cut the damned thing open and bandaged it back up, the cute little nurse(s, I believe) handed me a prescription of sorts.
She gave me the one over, and giggled.
“No wine and beer!”
I grinned back. Hey, she was cute!
“How about a date?”
She giggled even louder, and disappeared, never to be seen. No date, boyo.
Anyway, that hospital and the good docs there didnt solve the problem and it reoccured. A CRANKY back alley doc in Hong Kong (again) finally solved it.
He gave me one massive shot to the base of the toe to neutralize the pain. OUCH!
But it worked, and he literally showed me the toe as he was cutting it open, and jabbed the second injection in right where the pus was.
Did it work?
“You have a trip back to ….”, he asked.
Yes, I replied.
“Hmm!” he said, looking at me. “Indians generally can’t bear pain better than Chinese can!”
(He was referring to ethnic origins, and the trip back with a bandaged, cut wide open and painful toe).
Hell, I even went to Walmart that night to do my shopping. Climbed up the four flights of stairs back home.
And the next day, colleagues laughed at me about it.
“You can walk!”
And that was supposed to be the “balm on the wound”. LOL.
Ditto for when yours trulu “movie star” or “looking like one!” jumped out of the bus at the age of 17, landed with a nasty bump on that right wrist I write so much about, and work so much in Gorilla Grip, a wrist that was bandaged by the doc and then I was told to get on with it.
And of course, I got the gorilla from that tennis player three times my size …
Ditto for the MOST painful and potentially debilitating couple of injuries I picked up in 2017. Or 2108, I shoudl say.
Both so painful that ex Special Forces men and ex army men and wrestlers told me to get it treated pronto. And that “it would always hurt”.
REAL FIGHTERS, and REAL MEN that KNEW a thing or two about PAIN!
The thumb, of course.
CRACK! I can still remember the damned thing in the rain and cold popping in and out …
I didnt get it treated.
Well, I held a cold Corona. Hey. I was supposed to ice it, so I did!
Went to bed after a few beers.
And the next day, I was back at doing … FINGERTIP pushups. Albeit at 80%.
The day after was the 4th. Yours truly turned 37 I believe, and of course he had to work out hard and heavy with pull-ups with that thumb, and he did it!
Now, when I told my wife about it?
“Thats your problem! You’re in China!” she responded. “Don’t complain!”
All I did was tell her. I didnt complain or ask her for a solution!
And these are only the injuries I recall. One more is an extremely painful bump on the shin with a leather cricket ball wayyyyy back in the day (yours truly wasn’t wearing shin guards, and let me tell you, that was PAINFUL).
No-one so much as bothered to look at it.
Its my problem! How dare I bring it up.
I’m the guy that just does it.
Of course, I get ranted at in a psesudo-apopyltcic manner for NOT just doing the thing. HA! If only they KNEW!
They do know, of course, and thats why. When it cuts deep. Hehe.
But anyway, my wife.
She apparently picked up a nasty and extremely painful sprain yesterday.
I asked her about it once I got to know of it.
“Nunya biz”, she gaily responded, and yet, the DRAMA my friend.
You’d think the leg was permanently out of commission as opposed to a coupla days …
Same thing for the stomach infection or what not she supposedly had, which she was told was a “mental problem”.
I’m not sure it was. I ain’t even sure it was a real issue.
But apparently all the learned docs in the world couldn’t solve it.
Doctor bills. Money out the ass. Tests. Sh-tests. And what not. (and no, yours truly DID pay for it).
And aggravation. Driving hither, thither, and ….
(of course, the very people that claimed “it’s a mental problem” have changed their tune now, forgotten they said it, and turned around and said “of course it’s a problem!)
Marriages of convenience, and more. Hehe.
Anyway, so much for the docs. That problem still ain’t solved, but the DRAMA.
Then we have her “slipping once when cleaning”. Or, the supposed “jaundice” or what not she had pre-marriage when her family at the time “never treated her”.
Thankfully yours truly doesnt get blamed for that last one, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I did!
“Its nothing to do with you!” I can still hear people bawling. Hehe.
Anyway … the point of this LONG rant, or “history sheet” you might ask?
Well, it ain’t to glorify my injuries or to put down others. It ain’t to rant about doctors (though some deserve it – most of all the guy who looked at that nasty swollen ankle of mine in 2013 I believe, and complained about me taking my sock off to show him the issue! Much like the doctor who Uncle Bob went to back int he day for a cough – a serious one – and she complained about him coughing!).
(Curiously enough, these same idiots are looked upon by “society” in general as healers. And to be respected. HA!)
And it ain’t to say go to doctors or don’t. I believe most things are best treated yourself, but thats me.
The point is CODDLING.
DRAMA. Tons of it. And so forth.
Donald Trump, for one got the China plague, but he doesnt complain, whine, bitch, moan, piss groan and everythign under the sun does he for weeks on end?
He got the plague. Was in bed or what not for a couple of days and worked through it anyway.
And then he recovered. And boom, said and done.
Now, thats my MAN!
A REAL MAN!
And it’s the way I DO THINGS.
He’s back to his “anti mask” unruly ways.
Much like yours truly “unruly, rabid supporter of the right to bear firearms which to be honest should be there in EVERY country and very anti-mask” is, and has always been.
I hate CODDLING.
Now, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to be on the “coddled” side.
They’re the ones that get all the “supposed” advantages.
The commiseration .
Cry me a fucking river, my friend.
I’d rather be ont he other side.
Brutish, wild and JUST DO IT (despite being accused of not just doing it) much like Doctor #2 in gritty working class Mong Kok in Hong Kong.
It’s how I am.
It’s what I believe in.
And it’s what my products show more than anything else.
I do not coddle you.
If you can’t do pull-ups, for one, then lose the FAT bro. And get to work. If you got a weak grip, ditto. Strap – “shap” isn’t gonna solve the issue, and neither is tons of chalk (though there’s nothing wrong with chalk really).
Neither will doing endless sets of curls in the gym shym.
You do what works.
And if it hurts, if it’s “uncomfortable”, if it “makes you grow” … and so forth, well, thats a good thing.
And there endeth that long rant from yours truly “anti-coddled”.
Despite being curiously enough of course all my life being accused of BEING coddled by certain …ah, but we won’t go there.
How dare I.
I’m the nutter, aren’t I. LOL.
And on that note, yours truly “always wrong” is out.
PS – Pick up the grip compilation right HERE.