" What the fuck's happened to that are two weeks does not update the blog? , many of you may have wondered (a multitude, I see you already ...).
is that there were a number of situations in the ass one another, to say the Enzo Biagi. Since
dying to know you do a quick rundown ... but if you need to know just how much playing time from cooking the broccoli in a pan, then immediately changed the blog, no s'offende.
A couple of weeks ago I returned to my beloved Turin for the weekend: parebbe unidentified company that was willing to offer me a job, making it easier Thus, Italy is part ... I say seems, because that, to date, he has not yet been felt, but do not despair. On this occasion I took the opportunity to jump to the clique, see a couple of friends, talk a great project and various jokes.
The real drama was consumed at that on my return to Barcelona.
Sunday evening my lower abdomen right -section begins to rattle slightly, then continue on Monday in an endless crescendo towards what, on Tuesday, will be the highest manifestation of the pain I ever felt memories.
At home, doubled over in pain, luckily there were also R. and Michael, a friend trusted now, just arrived in Barcelona (and already broken), that in a short time has managed to luck (his and mine) fit perfectly to the customs here. The boy, rushing into the street to hail a taxi to take me to the hospital, we saw that it would not respond from love taxi driver loaded his car in a drunken Italian, and also in the infamous street where I live there would be entered (at the time was the entrance of that street). Michael opened the door, he sat back and made it known that I would wait there, loaded and carried to the nearest hospital, an alternative would split his head.
I walked the three hundred meters separating my house from where the taxi was on all fours under the puzzled looks of passers-astonished-indifference, are mounted in the car and we left, obviously with a maddening slowness, after an eternal (so it seemed) discussion what was the nearest hospital. When you arrive, take the ramp leading underground to the emergency room, the phone rings dell'omino driving ... that answers! Stopping
, of \u200b\u200bcourse, and complaining that there was no field. I grunted something
, R. has kindly invited us to stop being dicks and he's in one of those events where we want to exculpate a qualosa charging faults or other events outside our will:
" I do not know, 'is that people call when there is no field ... € 4 and 30, thanks .
Buttatogli him a ticket from 5 - R. is still waiting for everything to forgive my ass kicked, after having reproached for having left the 70 cents that protoimbecille - are loaded onto a stretcher and taken to Urgencias ... where the tragicomedy has been continued.
Hospitalized at 23.00, more or less, I am visited by three different doctors, who in turn bring to fruition their ten years of grueling academic studies asking " how are you? (benone. .. playing football?) giving me fists on the kidneys, " here does it hurt? " (Fuck you), " sure you're not addicted? " (I have a good memory for faces, sooner or later we meet again).
The third series was going to end up badly, was saved from diagnosticatami colic at 3 am (only 4 hours later), and R. that - masterfully escaped nurse-call in the hallway that prevented to reach us, fake right and double step to the left! -, Sensed my slight alteration was lovingly embraced me, pinning him to the bed.
confess that in that state of stoned total due to the massive dose of various drugs somministratemi pain relief - three infusions, two pears and two tablets - I found it quite well, cradled in the smell of old urine and bleach mixed chloroform.
I spent the next six days with a hot water bottle on the kidneys, under cover, he wanders between bed and couch, " complete rest," the doctor has recommended.
Now I'm here I shot two and a half liters of water a day ... two and a half liters of water a day ... but how the heck do you drink two liters of water a day and a half?! I go to the bathroom 15-20 times a day. Clear
then women must go to the bathroom every two minutes to do so plin plin , that they always carry with them the precious bottle in the little bag.
" is the age," said my mother by phone.
Shit ... even 29 years old, has already started with "It's the age .
If this continues, other than rest, the 37 arrival and is already the eternal rest.
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