I am not a hypochondriac. No, really.

And to think I thought wearing this blue lycra suit was embarassing. It looks downright stylish compared to that stupid neck collar. But that stupid neck collar is earning its keep, so I really can't complain too much about its incredibly sexy appearance.

So I took the day off from work today. Not because of my 'pain in the neck' neck but for something even more exciting. (And I swear I am not a hypochondriac.) I woke up several times in the night feeling very congested, and then around 4am I woke up coughing and wheezing and rattling. I know, chainsmokers probably don't find this at all impressive, but for a non-smoker like me, it was a tad disconcerting to not be able to breathe well. Plus, I had all that fun sneezing, itchy/scratchy, runny nose stuff going on too. The joy of allergies. I have no idea what set this reaction off. It would be hilarious if it turned out I was allergic to my neck collar! Ever notice how when you're having trouble breathing, and you start thinking about it, you have even more trouble breathing? Love that. Around 5.30am I accepted the fact that I am a 75-year-old 25-year-old trapped in the body of a 14-year-old. My immune system is just plain pathetic.

Anyhoo, I went to the doctor I failed the breath test all 7 times. The doc actually asked me if I was 'Really trying.' He said it in that tone of voice baseball coaches use when they tell their players that they 'throw like a girl.' Hrmph. So he thinks I either have asthma or that my bronchial tubes are inflamed due to my allergies. He gave me a puffer that I'm to take daily (that's an inhaler to you yanks) and he is going to monitor me weekly, so we'll see how we go. No improvement yet, but it's early and here's hoping that my bronchial passages aren't as stubborn as the rest of me! The doc had me use the puffer there in the office and then come back 45 mins later to see if there was any change. I failed the breath test again...if only I had studied harder! ;-)

Of course, I ran into someone I knew today. Poor Michael gave me the "Oh my god, were you in a car accident?" squeal. Obviously Michael doesn't know me well enough yet to know that nothing that logical or terrible would ever happen to me. I don't specialise in horrible or traumatic events - only dumb ones. Like, I wouldn't break a leg while sky-diving or skiing or something - nah, I'd be much more likely to break a bone while, I dunno, playing tag (No, I was not kidding about that yesterday - it really did happen!) Jorge came over to see me tonight and couldn't stop giggling. He kept making fun of how silly I looked. As long as everyone's laughing with me and not at me. :P

The Giraffe Who Sprained Her Neck

Do not be alarmed. I was not in a car accident, I didn't get mugged, no one tried to beat me up, and no, I didn't get into a catfight at a club. I don't need any help getting hurt, since I am Klutzo Bizarro! I didn't even need to leave the house to hurt myself this time. I am dangerous when awake, and apparently, even when I am sleeping.

I woke up this morning, feeling fine, until I attempted to move my head/neck slightly to the left, which caused me to curse. A lot. So I slept funny and woke up with a sore neck. This happens to me once in a while, I'm like a meatloafing contortionist in my sleep and unfortunately my neck is not actually made of rubber so I do occasionally wake up with a sore neck. However, I must give credit where credit it due. I really topped myself this time. I kept testing my available neck mobility range and was not too pleased. I used a lot of four letter words which I hope my neighbours did not hear. That's no way to wake up, after all, listening to an annoying American curse her klutzography of a sprained/strained neck.

I really thought about staying home from work today, but kept remembering things I had to do and I hate taking sickies unless I'm dying (I know, I'm insane). But I figured, how hard could it be to sit in front of a computer all day? Well, I must have blocked the blood supply to a few brain cells when I was busy twisting my gumby-like neck in my sleep last night, as guess what? I got to work and could not find any comfortable way to sit without holding my neck with one hand, supporting it. Which only left me one hand to type with. Not good.

I have never had a neck brace before. I loathe them. They look so dumb. I knew I would look so dumb. But after several hours of swearing under my breath and using my hands as a make-shift brace, I realised this was not the time to let petty pride get in the way. So I went to the chemist and the pharmacist helped me try on the neck collar, and she helpfully tried to turn my neck to the left, because, of course, that is the direction it can't turn in. I thought maybe my honest wince of pain might guilt her into cutting me a break on the collar, but alas no. Oh well.

So I look stupid, but the collar does take some of the pressure off. It does help.

I got plenty of weird looks when I walked home from work today and I realise in retrospect that it was probably more to do with the length of my neck rather than the actual collar. Glenn came over to pick up his boxes and his TV (sob! No more remote control!) and I warned him not to freak out. I told him I was wearing a neck brace but that it was no big deal, I just strained some neck muscles from sleeping funny, yadda yadda. Of course he took one look at me and freaked out. He kept saying, "Oh god." Then he said, "I never realised how long your neck was before." I reassured him that I have indeed always been a giraffe with a long neck. He was like, "Well, that collar thingy sure does make your neck look longer!"

It reminded me of my modern dance teacher at BU who used to always comment about my 'swan-like neck,' my 'petite frame' and my 'perfect feet arches' - she told me I had the body of a dancer. Hahahahahaha, but that was before she found out I have the soul of a klutz.

I was explaining to a friend tonight about how I managed to screw up my neck enough to embarass myself by wearing a neck collar, just by sleeping, and he said, "Wow, You are truly one of the weirdest people I know." He seemed so surprised that a body could do this. Was I surprised? Hell no. Let's just say that after you break your arm while playing tag and manage to dislocate your knee (the first time) while standing absolutely still, you don't really get too surprised by your body anymore. It's always an adventure.