In which I take a detour into the American Health Care System and emerge relatively unscathed.

Yesterday on the plane flight from Denver to SF my right elbow swelled up like a grapefruit and turned bright red. Dr. Google suggested it was bursitis and that I should ice it and rest and whatnot. Did that last night to no avail so I went down to the UCSF Ambulatory Care Center, which is basically Emergency Room Lite.

The wait's not that bad when you get there at 8:30 on a Saturday morning and other than the bitch who yammered constantly on her phone DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH the "NO CELL PHONES PLEASE" sign, it was basically uneventful.

They called my name and I went in. Pulled up my sleeve. "OH MY GOD," Dr. Ong said, which is simultaneously worrying because a doctor just looked at you and said "OH MY GOD," which is maybe not the first thing you want to hear when a doctor looks at you and also validating because you know you didn't overreact by going to the Ambulatory Care Center.

Anyway, as it turns out, I'm going to live but now I'm on some pretty heavy antibiotics and also an NSAID, which is fancy talk for a Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory something or other that starts with "D." I also have a RAGING cold and so I'm holed up here watching one episode of "48 Hours Mysteries" after another and feeling sorry for myself.

Still have a bachelor party thing to go to later. That should be good.