It's a med-tech joke. Really, you don't want to know.
I light myself on fire for a living. I've looked down many gun barrels held in fear, anger, duty, and jealousy. I've been shot, stabbed, frozen, drowned, electrocuted, hit by cars, fought with horses, angry women, bullies, and dragons. I've died in the desert sun, on mountain snow, on grassy field, and on placid lake. I've stepped through deaths door so often, I have my own coffee mug there.
But never have felt so fragile and helpless as in the hands of the AMA. So, in case my feelings for them aren't clear, I've asked the ghost of Johnny Cash to help out...
On the other hand, despite my brush with the only Drug Pushers I've ever had the displeasure to meet, I feel that I leave the better for it. I have data confirmation that my self-diagnosis over the years have been 100% correct. And despite a little brush with what must have been acid reflux a couple years ago, my heart is in fine shape.
Yes, I'm a fat bastard who needs to lose weight. And I already took the first few steps towards that goal. I bough an iPod so that I had something to listen to on walks (personal best this week, I broke the 20 minute mile). And I recently bought a real refrigerator.
You see, since I moved in to Culver City over 6 years ago, I've had this tiny mini fridge as my only unit. Sounds great until you realize you can't have frozen foods, or large quantities of anything that can spoil. Basically, it sucks. But now I can keep whole heads of lettuce, healthy snacks, all fruit popsicles, etc in there and know they'll come out right. It's remarkably improved my eating habits.
Plus, I feel even more empowered to continue listening to my body (and totem) for dietary cues. So far, they've been dead on with what I need.
In short, I feel like a new man. And it only cost me $800, three needle pricks, completely toxifying myself with bad prescriptions, and a couple weeks of stress.
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