Surely It Is Not I, The Thorn

I'm a little worried about Farmer H. Sunday evening, he was extra-grouchy when I came up from my lair to start supper. A supper which I thought he was bringing home, due to our conversation the previous evening, when he took 15 minutes to once again try to log in again to his Casey's Rewards account, and declare that he had a deal on two single-topping pizzas.

Yet Sunday evening, Farmer H denied any knowledge of such a plan. Saying so makes it so, with Farmer H. No way could he deny getting logged in again to his Casey's Rewards account. I even tried it twice for him.

Anyhoo... Farmer H glossed over that attempt to jog his memory, and redirected by saying he hasn't felt well all day, because he's had a pain in his side for three days. Yet when interrogated questioned, he said that it hurt when he was at the doctor Friday for his shot, but he didn't bring it up.

The Pony suggested that maybe it had something to do with the beers Farmer H drank while floating in the pool for over an hour.

"In the sun?"

"No. The beers were in the shade. But they WERE cheap beers."

"He drank the beers he MADE? With Genius's gift kit?"

"No. The ones he has in the fridge."

"What? That is Michelob! NOT a cheap beer! Cheap beer is THE BEAST. Which is what we used to drink right after we got married."

"Okay. So I guess maybe it's not the beer."

We did a virtual exam, with Farmer H in the La-Z-Boy replacement, and The Pony on the floor by the long couch, and me standing behind it. The pain was not low enough to be in the appendix area. It was not a sharp, straight-through pain like a gallbladder ailment.

Farmer H's pain is on his side-abdomen. On the right. So it's not his stomach. Maybe his liver. He says it hurts when he lays down in bed. And when he was laying in the chair. It didn't hurt when he sat on the couch and ate supper on the coffee table. He said he skipped lunch. But even though he felt bad, he still demanded held me to the original plan (before his Casey's offer) that I make a Devil's Playground Deli pizza.

You'd think someone sick enough to miss lunch would prefer something lighter than a meat-lover's pizza for supper.

Anyhoo... at 11:00, I heard him cough, in the La-Z-Boy replacement. The Pony declared that it was NOT DAD in the chair, because the lights were off. So I muted the TV and hollered up, so Farmer H could admit that he WAS in the chair, trying to sleep, and he was okay.

When The Pony started upstairs around 12:30, I said,

"Will you check on your dad? And make sure he's breathing? Hey! You don't have to roll your eyes like that!"

"It's not that I mind checking to see if he's breathing. It's that you act like such a request is perfectly normal."

Anyhoo... Farmer H was not in the chair then (darn that replacement chair, not having any identifying creaks and squeaks), but in bed. Which is no use checking on him there, because a light would wake him.

As I type this, I've heard Farmer H get out of bed and flush the toilet. So he's still kickin' for now. But I AM kind of worried about him. The Pony and I think maybe it's skeletomuscular, since he was running wire to put in security cameras at his Storage Unit Store on Thursday and Friday. It's an activity that would use muscles he doesn't regularly use. Farmer H says that's not the cause.

I'm pretty sure he won't let the pain in his side interfere with his gun-buying trip on Monday. But maybe he'll go to the doctor on Tuesday.