7.011 Bacon Cheeseburger Pizza

7.011

16 (Sat) January 2016

Bacon Cheeseburger Pizza

2.5

from Papa John’s [delivery]

at home

-Apgujeong, Seoul-

with the family

Mission to Korea + Personal Deviation, Day 5 (see previously 7.010 Cotto Prosciutto Insalata Pizza).

In Seoul.  Arrived Wednesday.  Here to attend planning meetings Thursday and Friday for an upcoming event of the parliamentarian forum that had brought me to Seoul for work last July (see generally 6.178 Sliders).  Spending the weekend at home.  Scheduled to fly back to Manila tomorrow … but that’s not going to happen.

IMG_3248
66 pairs (some not shown).

1400.

IZ is asleep in his room. W and DJ and are out.

I take the opportunity to clean out the shoe closet, mostly W’s stuff, crap that she never ever wears.  Not tossing anything out by my own hand, just laying everything out to make the decisions easier for her. We’ll be needing to downsize for the move to Manila, so this will get us on the right track.

Almost done, reaching up for a final pair on a high shelf——WHAMMO!!!  A TURBOCHARGED DAGGER STABS INTO THE BASE OF MY SPINE.  The pain is so intense and so direct and so pure that I actually think that I’m dying.  I collapse to the floor and lay exactly as I’d fallen, legs awkwardly folded under, arms splayed to the sides, head on my chest.  Any movement beyond breathing or rolling my eyeballs immediately sends bolts of excruciating pain throughout my back.  Otherwise, if I stay still, no pain.  So I stay still.  If IZ wakes up and sees me like this, he’ll think it’s a game and pounce.

An hour later, W comes home, opens the door, sees her shoes on display in the entry way, looks down at my crumpled form.

“What are you doing?”

“I was helping you to arrange your shoes.”

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“Injured my back, can’t move.”

“You deserve it.”

After clearing a path through the shoes, W manages to push me into the living room, where I’m relegated to staying on the floor, leaning against the sofa.

By dinner time, I can slowly move my limbs, so long as my torso remains inert.

The low angle of the pizza photos shows the elevation that I could barely manage — on the verge of death, GMTD still comes through.

All the doctors we call say the same thing, that it’s likely a slipped disc, but weekend emergency rooms can’t do much except inject nerve blockers to stop severe on-going pain, which isn’t the case here, so just rest until the nerve endings begin to retract a bit and allow some movement, then go get an MRI to determine next steps.

This has now become a literal personal deviation.

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