The BYU Health Clinic

As many of you don't know, I separated my shoulder a few weeks ago in a football game. Luckily, we were able to locate it amid the corporal rubble on top of me, and re-attach it. As an obstinate male, I resisted going to the doctor or taking any medicine for as long as I could. But then it continued to hurt like Hades and I could barely tie my shoes (well, that's not really a result of the injury), pull my car door shut, or put on my shirt. The straw that broke the caramel's back and drove me to the physician's quarters was when I tried to move the fridge by myself and utterly failed. Forget the caramel, it was my back that was broken. So I made an appointment with the BYU Health Center.

I showed up in a timely manner, waited in the cold waiting room (a frigid room, not a time of patience for cold-like symptoms to settle in- that was the next lobby over) and then was politely escorted to the backroom. When the nurse invited me to step on the scale I asked her if she wanted me to take the 10 lbs. weights I had in my pocket out. She said, "No, those are fine. We never require our patients to empty their pockets- hospital policy!" After taking my blood pressure, finger temperature (seriously), and asking a few difficult questions on my family illness history, the Prussian War, and Norwegian Vikings, the nurse invited me to take a seat on butcher paper to await 'the doctor' (hey, what's going on here...). The appointment wasn't that exciting after she left. He was nice, she was nice, my acromioclavicular joint was deemed torn, I got a Transformer band-aide for my shoulder, and I was scolded for not knowing that Thursday was named after the Viking god Thor. Doctor's are just so smart.
I had my follow-up appointment this morning and nearly died driving in the snow up to it. The doc told me I was healing nicely, although he did question how I had lost 20 lbs in two weeks...