The Bloody Doors Off

I’m gonna glow in the fucking dark any day now.

My lovely wife Marlo drove me to Ajax for a 2am MRI scan of my lower back. How does this relate to my tendonitis and a lesion lurking in my foot? The neurologist wants to rule out a herniated disc or pinched nerve.

Of course, the last MRI of my foot was inconclusive and THAT needs to be redone. I prodded my GP (well, her replacement while she’s on maternity leave) about not getting a new date. Turns out the requisition sent for the lumbar also included my right foot, but they will only scan one body part at a time. They texted offering a date on the last week of August (at 4:50 am). Which I can’t do. (Prior commitment.) I’m waiting for other date options.

Some day, historians will find this blog and curate it in a museum, as the origin story of Toronto’s superhero protector. Or it’s evil mastermind who removed Doug Ford from office and was heralded as Ontario’s saviour, until I instituted ice cream Tuesdays. Because no one wants to eat ice cream on a Tuesday in February.